Nightmares and a Choir Robe
by seerstella
Summary: Sequel of "A Choir Robe and Nightmares". Back in England, Ralph still feels he is a failure and he has Jack's choir robe. Meanwhile, Jack lives a better life and Roger's an asylum inmate. Join them in their journey of finding love of their family, of their friends, and the most important, towards each other. Jack/Ralph.
1. Shocking Morning

Title: Nightmares and a Choir Robe (I'm not creative, rite? *evil laugh*)

Author: Seer M. Anno

Fandom: Lord of the Flies

Pairing: Ralph/Jack Merridew, minor Roger/OC

Genre: AU, Slash, H/C, Fluff?

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this fandom except the story below. Please don't sue.

Rating: PG-15

Warnings: Child/Teenage abuse. Language. Probably a bit OOC. Underage slash. Some OCs, in case you don't like it.

Summary: Back in England, Ralph still feels he is a failure and he has Jack's choir robe. Meanwhile, Jack lives a better life and Roger's an asylum inmate. Join them in their journey of finding love of their family, of their friends, and the most important, towards each other.

A/N: Sequel/Aftermath of A Choir Robe and Nightmares, written in Jack's POV. Changed some details here and there, I hope it's okay. Ralph's last name was taken from someone who gave that name in AO3. Still based on the 63 film, with some aspects from the book.

This is actually an oneshot, but it's pretty long so I decide to make it a chaptered one. Unbeta'd, sorry!

* * *

**Nightmares and a Choir Robe**

**Jack x Ralph, Lord of the Flies**

**Seer M. Anno**

* * *

_Chapter One: Shocking Morning_

* * *

"Good morning, dear," a dark woman with black hair and brown eyes greeted.

"Good morning, Aunt Tanya," Jack Merridew smiled back at her. "What is it for breakfast?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, wiping her glasses. "Cereal?"

Jack still held his smile and nodded. "It's fine with me."

"Good!" she said. She disappeared into the kitchen for awhile, but when she came back she merely looked at him, her eyes darkening. "I'm going to visit Roger today, want to come?"

"No," Jack finally answered. A lie slid smoothly from his lips. "I need to see a friend."

She blinked and Jack felt a tinge of guilt for not accompanying her. Since her son was placed in an intense therapy (that was the... gentler way to say 'asylum'), Jack was the only one that reminded her that she had a son. She couldn't lose him the way she had lost Roger.

Jack knew what was in his foster mother's mind. He patted her hand and said, "Maybe I'll come later."

Aunt Tanya's smile was wide. "Promise?" she asked.

"Promise," Jack answered, giving her a mock salute. She gave him another one and left.

* * *

Jack was riding his bicycle down the street, humming softly. He only wanted time to be alone. It wasn't because he didn't like the times he had gone through with Aunt Tanya, Roger's mother. After all, she was the only one close to a mother figure, something Jack would never have for real.

She didn't know that Roger had been dumped in an orphanage. She and Roger's dad were married by accident, and with that Roger was born. 'A mistake', his father had called him. He didn't really like Roger and didn't want to be tied down in a very young age of nineteen. So he told a teenage Aunt Tanya his relatives would take care of Roger so she also could continue her schooling. Which was wrong.

Aunt Tanya remarried last year, when Jack and the others were fourteen, two years after The War. Knowing that she had been at least financially stable, she wanted to take Roger from 'his father's relatives' and it turned out her son was in an asylum and previously was abused in an orphanage. The orphanage's keepers told her about Jack and she grew fond of him instantly. She really tried to make up her lost time with her son, and knew that her son's 'therapy' was one of the ways she could manage that.

Jack didn't know why, but he was jealous at the dark boy. Well, maybe he knew why. At least he had found his mother and knew his childhood. Aunt Tanya and her businessman husband Uncle Gareth never neglected him but he really wanted to know what happened with his own parents as well.

He entered a small cafe and sat down. As usual he ordered a cup of tea and opened his backpack. He took out some music scores, which were the songs he had to practice in the choir. He spent his time in the cafe memorising the lyrics and tunes. He knocked his fingers against the wooden table to count the tempo. And then he started to hum.

"...Dad has told Julia."

Jack stopped humming as he lifted his head from the scores he had been reading. He didn't know why, but the voices which came from the table behind intrigued him. He looked back inwardly, pretending that he was looking for a clock.

He saw two young men, apparently soldiers, sitting behind him. They were blonds, and Jack assumed they were brothers or something. He leaned against his seat, trying to overhear more.

"What's about that scum?"

"Ralph?"

Jack winced at the mention of Ralph, and something fluttered in his inner core. Surely what they meant wasn't _that_ Ralph, right? But Ralph was as blond as these men. And also as fair, despite of their days on the island. At least that was what Jack last remembered. He put his music scores into his bag and decided to hear more.

"I don't want to see his stupid face again."

"That makes the two of us."

"What should we do?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Not now, you twat. We'll see how much he'd changed."

"Yeah, Julia has written to Father about him in the therapy." The man let out a mocking laugh. "_Therapy_? Told you he's batty."

Jack clenched his eyes shut, leaning against his seat heavily. He didn't want to hear that word again, for it triggered his memories. He drank his tea, distracting himself.

The man continued. "Yeah, Julia told me he spoke things about islands or something. Told you he's batty."

_Islands._

Jack almost choked on his drink. That must be _his_ Ralph.

His Ralph.

_Wait a sec._

_Since when Ralph became mine?_

Jack was busy with his thoughts he didn't realise the men were leaving. He swallowed his hatred and finally could compose himself, paid for his tea, and silently followed them down the street. They continued to chat, but Jack didn't care about their topics anymore. He merely hoped they would go home. Because with that he would know Ralph's house.

"We're here."

"Where's Father?"

"He's already inside." One of them knocked the door and not long afterwards an elderly woman's voice was heard, as cheerful as a summer holiday.

"You're here! Ralph, they're here!"

Jack didn't need to see Ralph today. So he ran back to the café, took his bicycle, and rode to the asylum. Aunt Tanya was waiting for him, after all.

* * *

Later that night, Jack couldn't sleep. His mind couldn't stop spinning. And Ralph was the one to blame.

_What'll happen to him?_

_Who cares about that fire freak_, the other side of his mind told him. _Let him be._

_But you kissed him. You must've at least cared for him._

That very thought stopped his mind from spinning. He jumped awake, touching his lips slightly. A certain image was displayed inside his head. He could hear Ralph muttering and squirming on the sand, stuck and suffering inside his own head, looking for help.

_"Let me go... please. Please, it hurts."_

And Jack had had his choir robe in hand. He blinked and there he was, standing near the trembling body on the sand. Jack had intended to sleep with his robe as a blanket but seeing Ralph having a nightmare... that had triggered his own memory too.

_A little Roger was screaming, and I covered him and his screams stopped..._

He didn't realise that he had jumped out his bed for a while. He banged his cupboard open and immediately saw the piece of garment he was looking for. He pulled it out, took a small box, folded and put it inside the box, and took a piece of paper.

His hand stopped right there. He didn't know what to write. What was he supposed to write to someone he had almost killed? He wasn't really good with words after all. But slowly words started to flow inside his mind and he quickly wrote it down. Maybe being a bit confident would help him. He was Jack Merridew, after all, he was famous for his (over) confidence.

So he wrote the last two sentences on the paper before putting it into an envelope. He didn't want to see the mirror, because he was sure he was blushing like a schoolgirl.

_Maybe we can make more civil and talk. Or maybe kiss some more._

Afterwards, Jack sneaked out his house, took his bicycle, and rode down the dark street. He used to go out in the dark, since the hell of an orphanage he had lived in sometimes locked him outside if he had made the keepers angry. The redhead stopped for awhile and clenched his eyes shut at the memory. He took a deep breath and continued to ride his bicycle.

Finally he reached the house. He was going to leave the box on the doorstep when his mind scolded him.

_What if those brothers of his found it? It won't be good! You're stupid, Jack._

He looked at the nearest window. It was large, and Jack could feel that it could be opened from the outside. Maybe the lock was broken. He pulled it open slightly and peeked in. He grinned when he realised that it was a bedroom, and he knew it was Ralph's. He pushed the box inside, closed the window, and rode his bicycle down the street and towards his own house.

* * *

A/N: So? What d'you think? Feel free to review! :)


	2. When an Old Friend Comes

_Chapter Two: When an Old Friend Comes_

* * *

**_A week later._**

"Jack?"

Jack just walked into the living room, his body soaking wet from the rain outside. Aunt Tanya practically bounced from the kitchen at the sight of him. "What are you doing, silly boy?" she scolded motherly. "Riding your bicycle in a downpour! Silly, silly lad. Now take off that uniform and get yourself warm."

Jack grinned at her. "Alright, Ma'am."

Aunt Tanya mock glared at him as he ran upstairs, leaving water on his way. He didn't go downstairs after he had done changing his clothes and took a warm shower. He decided to practice some of the song. Singing calmed him, after all.

_Knock, knock._

After nearly an hour, Jack was forced to stop singing in his famous C sharp when he heard his door was knocked. He opened it and saw Aunt Tanya. She smiled.

"Someone downstairs wants to see you."

"From school?"

She looked annoyed. "He's as wet as you were and no, he doesn't wear your school sweater."

Jack wondered why someone from other school wanted to see him.

_Maybe he wants me to be his vocal teacher?_

He had done that, of course. That was why the thought occurred to him. His mind whirled as he continued to go downstairs.

_Maybe he sees me in church and has that idea?_

_Maybe he's one of the guys from the choir?_

_Maybe...?_

Those thoughts stopped when he saw the blond 'someone' who was in his living room.

"Ralph?"

* * *

It was awkward, of course. Jack couldn't see the other boy's eyes and Ralph did the same. He kept looking down, almost reminding Jack of the secretly-emotionally-needy boy he had seen on the island. Jack didn't mind giving the robe when Ralph was still asleep but the sight of Ralph made him much more than uneasy.

"Jack," the redhead could hear a whisper. He jerked out his seat and walked into the kitchen, towards Aunt Tanya who was leaning against a wall. "I've never seen you so silent before around a friend. Who's that?"

"Ralph. Ralph Foley," Jack blurted out the name. "He was... a friend of mine."

"Was?"

He merely shrugged. Aunt Tanya mimicked his shrug and pointed at the two cups near the sink. It was filled by hot chocolate, and the steam curling out from them. "Take it. Chocolate melts awkwardness, you know. Maybe he wants to stay too?"

"I'll ask him."

With that, Jack walked back to the living room. He put one of the steaming cups in front of Ralph's line of vision, which was on the table. "Careful, it's hot."

"Thanks," the blond croaked out. Jack noticed that his clothes were slightly dried, but it seemed like they were still damp. He shrugged. Maybe if Ralph had felt too cold for his own good he would ask for spare clothes. He just didn't like being too caring towards someone, even someone he had had a crush on.

_Or did you? Having a crush on him?_

"Why d'you come here?" Jack asked as he took a sip of his own hot chocolate, wanting to distract his own mind.

Ralph looked up, startled. "To say thanks, I guess. For the robe."

"The _tog_." Jack corrected. "Well, it's no problem."

Ralph sighed and drank slowly. "Was that Roger's mom?"

"Yeah."

"She seems really nice."

"She is. Roger's stepdad is rather okay too."

Ralph muttered something so softly Jack almost couldn't hear him. "I wonder if he lived with her instead in that orphanage."

Jack scoffed. "He's my friend and I sometimes wished the same to him. But... no use crying over spilled milk, yes?"

"Yeah."

They were silent afterwards. Finally Ralph broke it. "So... how was your therapy?"

"Haven't I told you before? In that letter?"

Ralph shrugged. "Maybe I just want to hear you speak."

"I thought you were the speaking type," Jack said, referring to their times on the island.

Ralph, for the first time, let out a hoarse laugh, which startling the redhead. "I guess so."

Jack was silent for a while before he blurted out, "Yours?"

"What?"

"Your therapy. How was it?"

Ralph smiled weakly. "Well, I learned things, mostly. I got into some team building activities. My therapist put me into a group that looked like ours. You know. _Physically_ looked alike."

Jack blinked. He bet that didn't even cross his own physiatrist's mind. That interested him, although he didn't really want to show it. He wasn't accustomed to show emotions. Besides, when he had decided to show his full emotion, it had caused him two deaths.

_What's the use?_, suddenly his mind told him. _It's Ralph. He knows everything. Why should you hide your feelings?_

At that point, Jack decided that he could care less of hiding his feelings. So he leant forwards and stared at Ralph's downcast eyes in sincere interest.

"I'd like to hear about it," he said, his tone formal.

"Well," Ralph's smile wavered as he ruffled his own hair. His face had changed. His funny teeth weren't as bad as when Jack saw him for the first time. He wasn't as thin as that boy, too. He got taller, yes, almost as tall as Jack, and his shoulders were broader. But the blond hair was still there. And those eyes stayed as well. Those tired eyes which made him looked much older than his age of fifteen.

Ralph opened his mouth and continued the conversation. "There was even a kid who looked so much like you. He scared me when I saw him for the first time."

Jack wondered if there was a kid who looked like him. He didn't like the thought, not at all.

"And there were these boys, twins. They even completed each other's words."

"Samneric."

"Yeah." Ralph was visibly trembling. "It turned out my therapist just wanted to see me with those... people, paying them for keeping me company. I mean, if I am strong enough to go with people who looked much like... well, us."

"And I reckon you're strong enough." That wasn't a question, because Jack didn't like to ask. It was one of those signs of showing stupidity.

"You can say so. But your tog helped. I actually only want to forget... but you gave me your robe and I think I need to say thanks."

"I told you, it's okay." Jack looked out the window. He smiled when he realised that the rain had stopped. "Why don't you just go home?"

"What?"

"The rain's stopped."

"Oh!" Ralph jerked from his seat. "I think... well... I'll go then."

Although he had said that, neither of them moved. Jack narrowed his eyes. "Your brothers are home." That, too, wasn't a question.

Ralph paled. Jack refrained himself to grin. It was spontaneous to grin over a right guessing, after all.

"I'll take it as a yes," he said, his tone containing a bit of triumph. Then he waited.

Ralph cleared his throat. "May... May I stay? For a while?"

Jack grinned. He knew that was the question he had been waiting since the first time he saw a soaking wet Ralph in the living room. "Fine," he feigned a defeated sigh. "First, you're going to change your clothes."

* * *

Aunt Tanya called Jack when Ralph was changing his clothes in Jack's room. She was smiling slightly. Her smile vanished when she saw his forlorn face.

"I know he knows my son. Is he your..." she stopped for awhile. "...island friend?"

Jack finally nodded.

"That explains your silence over there," she said. "Well, d'you want me to go there and make things less uncomfortable for you two?"

"Don't," Jack warned her. "Not now."

"Up to you, Mr. Merridew."

Jack grinned weakly at her and walked back upstairs. Ralph was sitting on his bed, his eyes staring at nothing. Jack cleared his throat. "What should we do now?"

"Up to you," Ralph answered.

"I'd like to sing." Jack couldn't believe what he was going to say next, but he found himself saying it. "Want to join? Or you prefer just looking at me with those dumb blonde eyes?"

Ralph glared at him, but slowly stood. "I hate singing, but well…"

Jack showed him his personal corner, which he never showed to anyone, not even Aunt Tanya. He showed him his music scores and Ralph's eyes widened in wonder.

"I was practicing when you came," Jack huffed, rolling his eyes.

"Show me." Ralph said, almost sounding like a challenge. And Jack would never resist challenges.

The day went on with Jack's voice filling out the house.

* * *

A/N: This story is almost complete, so I'll try to post daily. Review plz? :D


	3. Bandages and a Kiss

_Chapter Three: Bandages and a Kiss_

* * *

Since they reunited, Ralph came into Jack's house really often. He usually came between Jack's practice times, much to the redhead's annoyance. They were still awkward, of course, but Jack knew they could be friends like they used to. At least, there was a hope between them. Jack was surprised when he found himself hoping that things between them would be okay.

However, he couldn't help but to wonder what made the blond didn't want to go home. His brothers wouldn't be home all the time, he'd assumed.

Ralph was busy staring at Uncle Gareth's piano when Jack asked that. He didn't seem to hear, his hands were tracing the polished wood of the musical instrument gently.

"My father said my mother was a pianist," he said. "Before she had me, of course."

Jack lifted his eyebrow, signalling him to continue. Ralph sat on the chair and opened the piano. He smiled weakly as his hands ghosted around the black and white keys. "You play, Jack?"

The redhead grinned. "Of course. Why?"

"Care to teach me some songs?"

Ralph said it in a challenging way, and Jack would never resist challenges. He was a Merridew, after all. So he sat on the piano chair, still grinning. His earlier question was temporarily forgotten as piano notes and words of teaching filled the empty house.

* * *

Ralph and Jack's relationship now could be called as friendship. Their conversation were much easier it almost effortless. But still, neither of them said anything about the kiss they had shared on the island. Jack remembered it as if it happened yesterday, and he doubted Ralph could forget it.

_Speaking about him_, his mind wondered. _Where's he now?_

Jack would never say it aloud that he liked Ralph's company, or anyone else in that matter. Ralph came to Jack's house around an hour after Jack came home from school. He looked out and saw the heavy rain pouring out there.

_Maybe he stays at home._

Jack huffed and was going to do his usual practice when the door was knocked harshly, as if the knocker was in such a hurry or something. He banged the door open (Aunt Tanya would absolutely kill him if she knew) and the sight in front of him made him gape.

Ralph was standing on the doorway, drenched to his bones. His face was coloured by purple bruises and his nose was bleeding.

"Cold," he gritted through clenched teeth.

"Bloody hell, Ralph," Jack finally blurted. "In, now."

Ralph staggered in and Jack had to resist the urge of carrying him to the sofa. He made the injured blond sat on the nearest couch, not caring of what Aunt Tanya would say if her favourite seat was drenched. He rushed into the kitchen, looking for the first aid kit. Once he had found it, he grabbed it and was back in the living room in a flash.

* * *

Half an hour had passed, and Ralph had bandages on his head and his arm. Jack was sitting on the floor, looking up at him. He carefully bandaged his eye, which was swollen shut, when Ralph opened his torn lip.

"Thanks."

Jack shrugged off the gratitude. He wasn't accustomed with praises and grateful words.

"I mean it. Thank you." Ralph said. "Where did you learn these things?"

Jack swallowed. He had told Ralph about his former 'house', so it would be no use to lie. "Well, the orphanage actually," he said slowly. "There were some kids who needed me and Roger's help. So, yea, you know." He cursed himself. Merridews didn't stammer, that was one for sure.

"Who would have guessed you'd be the one who helped me?" Ralph let out a hoarse chuckle.

Jack couldn't help but to chuckle as well. "Guess you're right."

Ralph grinned, his funny teeth was still visible even after all this time. He had gone broader than the thin boy who had always fussed about the shelters, the one Jack used to know. The blond had gained some weight and his cheeks were slightly rounder, making him looked healthier. But still, that line of teeth... Jack could see it in such a close proximity.

"You always said that," he said, breaking Jack's thoughts. To Jack's surprise, admiration was heard in Ralph's voice. "Back on the… island."

The two boys were silent, remembering the glamour of their first days. "Yeah," said Jack, shuffling awkwardly on the floor. He didn't—couldn't—say anything else. He realised that he was blushing madly when he looked up at the blond. "I was... silly, wasn't I?"

"You were more than that," suddenly Ralph cradled cupped his healthy hand on Jack's cheek. "But it was the past. We've gone through that."

When Jack was little, he couldn't see anyone in their eyes. He used to be so frightened about it. The adults would hit his head if he dared to look up. He had rebelled once when he was eleven, for Roger's sake, and he still could feel the cut on his back until now.

But now it was different. Ralph's eye stared at him, his gaze soft and warmth seeped into Jack. He would never admit it, but that was the time when Jack had felt most... _content_ in his entire life.

_And you have Ralph to thank for that_.

With that, Jack reached up and pulled Ralph down, closing their already close proximity with a soft brush on the lips.

Outside, the rain had stopped.

* * *

Ralph was sleeping now. Jack decided to let him stay in his room, and he knew Aunt Tanya wouldn't mind. She'd love having Ralph around, since she sometimes complained about Jack's lack of friends. Outside his group of choirboys, of course.

Speaking about the island's choirboys, they had split up. Many of them had moved out after their probation. They maybe couldn't stand being surrounded with people who can trigger their bad memories, especially Jack. The ones who stayed were only Henry and Maurice. The rest were new boys, including Henry's brother who had replaced Jack as a Head Boy in Jack's old school. That brat.

Jack closed the book he was reading and glanced at the bed. Ralph was sleeping like a baby. Jack had lent him his clothes, which was a bit too big. His face was still terrible, but Jack was relieved to see almost all the pain had gone from his expression.

They didn't say anything about the kiss. Ralph had mumbled something and Jack was blushing so madly he could feel his face was burning. And then Ralph asked for a bathroom and spare clothes. Jack took him into his room and several minutes later the blond was asleep. That wasn't perfect, the kiss, but it sure meant something.

_Stop it_, his mind scolded. _You sound like a lovesick schoolgirl_.

But before Ralph fell asleep, they talked a bit. Well, not really talking, actually.

* * *

_"I always love this room."_

_"I like it too." Jack said shortly, still looking for his musical score. He needed to practice anyway. _Hell, where's that thing?

_"It's dark, and I like darkness."_

_"It's not dark," Jack insisted. "It's just... dim, that's all. Why d'you like darkness anyway?"_

_"Reminds me of your robe. I wear it every time I feel that I'll break."_

_Jack lifted his eyebrow. _Well, that wasn't surprising_._

_Ralph looked down at his hands. "In the dark they won't touch me. I'm safe."_

_"I... see."_

_"I'm a failure, Jack." Ralph said, sounding exasperated. "I can't do anything right!"_

_Jack snapped his back at him, his intention of looking for his musical score immediately forgotten. "It's not!" he suddenly shouted. He was so loud he himself jumped of hearing his own voice._

_Ralph, who was lying on his bed right now, sat up so abruptly he whined in pain. "Well then!" he shrieked hysterically. "Tell me something I've done right in my short life! TELL ME!"_

_Jack blurted out unintelligible words._

_"What?"_

_"You were a better chief." Jack muttered, his voice was so small he was sure Ralph could barely hear him. If Jack said those words on the island, admitting his fault, he would've been so offended._

_But now, it sounded like a... release._

_Ralph's face was expressionless as he threw himself on the bed. Silence covered the room like a thick black cloak. When Jack looked at the boy, he realised that Ralph had fallen asleep. The redhead sighed in relief. Maybe Ralph didn't hear him at all._

* * *

_"Jack! Ralph! Dinner's ready!"_

Several hours later, Jack found himself shaking Ralph's shoulders. "Sorry for waking you up, but dinner's ready."

Jack saw terror filling Ralph's eyes as he jerked awake. "I overslept!" he whispered. Cold sweat was starting to roll down his bandaged face. "They didn't... come, right?"

The redhead automatically knew what the other meant. "No. Guess they don't know you have a friend in this house." He had intended it as a joke, but Ralph didn't even smile. Instead, he looked down and started to tremble. _What on earth?_

Jack wanted to say what was wrong, but instead he blurted out, "Now what, Ralph?"

To his surprise, Ralph chuckled. His tremble of fear was lessened, replaced by that sign of amusement. "You don't change. That's good."

"What d'you mean?"

"You don't change. You stay. You're my friend, the last one I have."

Jack frowned and forced Ralph to look up. The blond's eye was brimming with tears. "My brothers' friends did this to me. And when I came to school nobody dared to come near me. Even Samneric and Percival. But they're my junior; they don't talk to me often."

Jack frown deepened when he recognised the names. "Wonder why," he said.

"They had threatened them. My friends."

Jack's insides were automatically burned with anger. Ralph apparently realised that fact as well, because he started to whimper. Jack was startled to realise that his grip on Ralph's shoulders had tightened. He released him at once.

"But it's good, right?" Ralph said, half-asking and half-sobbing. His tone was hoarse and tears were sliding down to his bruised cheeks. The sight of tears running out from the bandaged eye broke Jack's heart, although he would never admit it. "They should've known not to befriend a cripple like I am! Devon and Ross were right! I'm nothing more than a scum!"

That was the last bloody straw. Before Jack realised what he had done, he had kissed him, muffling Ralph's self-depreciating words. The kiss wasn't a soft brush on the lips like what they had done hours before. It was rough, and with a soft moan Ralph opened his mouth, giving Jack some access into the warm cavity. And then...

_"RALPH FOLEY! JACKSON MERRIDEW! IF YOU TWO AREN'T GOING DOWN THIS INSTANT...!"_

The two boys were forced to break apart with a start. Ralph's eye was wide and he blinked several times. His tears apparently had stopped.

Jack was panting. "The therapy did nothing to heal you," he said slowly, cupping Ralph's cheek. "You can't keep hating yourself, for God's sake." He took a deep breath. "Look, I know that how many apologises for what I've done on the... island won't be enough. But hear me here, Ralph. You have my word. I'm not giving up on you."

Ralph's breath hitched. But then a small smile crossed on his lips. "Always the stubborn Merridew," he said hoarsely. "But that's the best thing I've heard. Thanks, Jack."

Jack nodded and pulled him into a hug. "I'm a Merridew," he said, grinning. "Nothing can stop me."

_"JACK AND RALPH! DOWN, NOW!"_

"Goodness!" they said together, faintly amused, as they ran downstairs, to a seething Aunt Tanya.

* * *

Several hours after dinner, Ralph was sleeping (again) in Jack's room and Aunt Tanya was playing the piano, waiting for Uncle Gareth to come home. Jack, who had done his homework, was replaying the scenes between him and Ralph in his mind.

_He doesn't seem to have any more nightmares_, his mind told him.

His mind was proven wrong when Ralph started muttering in his sleep. Jack couldn't get what he was saying, but it didn't sound good at all. Jack jumped out from his seat and rummaged into his cupboard, looking for something that could calm the blond.

_My tog!_

_Stupid Merridew!, _his mind scolded_. You gave it to Maurice for washing!_

He realised the fact with a start. He stared at the squirming blond and decided he had to act fast. He ran outside the room and into the backyard, where Aunt Tanya had put Ralph's wet uniform to dry. Ralph had once mentioned to Jack that he always brought his house keys with him. The redhead hoped he brought the keys before he came here.

Jack blinked in the dark, and could see the white garment. He grabbed it and groped for a certain hardness in the pockets. He grabbed the brown pants and breathed in relief. The silver key fell onto his palm with a small sound. He grinned but then he realised that he didn't have time to praise his own smartness. He grabbed his bicycle and crept out from the backyard.

* * *

Jack only needed a minute to reach Ralph's dark house. He put his bicycle in a secure alley near the house and crept towards the house.

_Try his window._

Jack obeyed his own mind and tried to open Ralph's window. He failed, the window was locked shut. That made him snarling all the way towards the door. He silently slipped the key and a while later the door was opened with a quiet creak. He tiptoed in and was relieved to realise no sign that the house occupants were still awake.

He found Ralph's room rather easily, since it was located near the entrance door. Jack pushed it open and the door swung softly, revealing the small bedroom. He walked in, closed the door, and fumbled with the darkness before finally could find the familiar blackness on the bed.

_So he really uses this as a blanket?_, his mind asked. _Wizard_.

He took it silently and saw the locked window. It was locked from the inside. Jack grinned. He easily opened the lock and jumped out from the window. He landed on the concrete floor perfectly, still grinning. He locked the front door and took his bicycle and rode it back to his own house.

Jack crushed the bicycle in the backyard and crept into the house. Aunt Tanya was still playing the piano. He sighed in relief and rushed upstairs.

Ralph was thrashing on the bed now, his face sweaty and his cheeks were as red as a tomato. Even when he had a nightmare he didn't make a sound. That sight made Jack's heart clench. He pulled out his blankets and covered him with his old tog.

Ralph was still squirming but slowly he stopped and fell into a deep slumber. Before Jack knew of what he was doing, he bent down and kissed Ralph's sweaty brow goodnight.

* * *

A/N: Sorry, but my modem died yesterday. That means double chapters for today! Review plz? :D


	4. Punishment for a Thief

_Chapter Four: Punishment for a Thief_

* * *

A shock came to Jack and his adoptive family three weeks later. Ralph was coming into the house, and Aunt Tanya was out with her friends. Jack was practicing his songs when the front door was knocked.

Ralph looked up at him, wanting to go downstairs and open the door, but Jack stopped him.

"No guests can open the door."

Ralph obliged with a questioning look as Jack rushed downstairs and opened the door slowly. Aunt Tanya had warned him not to open the doors for strangers, but Jack knew he was strong on his own. He could handle strangers, much to his self-pride. He was fifteen, for God's sake, of course he was strong.

When the door was opened and revealed the men in front of him, Jack could feel his blood drained out from his face.

"Ah, this redheaded boy," one of the blond man said. Jack realised, with a start, that these were Ralph's older brothers, Ross and Devon. "Have we met before?"

"I don't know," Jack said, sounding brave. In fact, fear crept into his insides and he knew it was because he didn't want to see Ralph got hurt again. He was relieved to realise that Ralph was still upstairs. "Who are you, anyway?"

_They won't go upstairs and check on every room_, his mind assured him. _They have no right_.

"You lied, boy," Devon said. They stepped in and closed the door. "You crept into our house like a thief you are."

Jack hated to admit this, but he was scared shitless. So, he was caught. But he was Jackson Christopher Merridew for a reason. His times on the island had made him a tougher person. "Oh, really?" he challenged. "You think so?"

"We _know_ so," Ross said. Ralph had said that Ross was the one who got physical. Jack stepped away from Ross, examining him as he did so. Jack thought he was tall enough, but those two men were much taller than him and that reminded him of the orphanage keepers. The comparison sent shivers down his spine. "We were there. We saw you opened the door and into Ralph's room. We found the windows were unlocked once you left."

"You know Ralph, then?" Devon asked, his tone low.

"There's no Ralph in this house!" Jack said, almost shouting. He hoped Ralph could hear it so he could go hide or something.

"Really?" Ross asked, stepping closer to Jack. "We'll take a look, then, just like what you did."

Jack knew his face went paler, if that was still possible. But before he could do anything, one of them grabbed his shoulders and half-dragging him upstairs. He kicked and punched and shouted but they kept laughing at him.

They found his room rather quickly, maybe because there were only two rooms upstairs. Devon banged the door open and Jack was relieved that Ralph had gone hiding himself somewhere. They looked around the room, Ross' grip still tight on Jack's shoulders.

"See?" Jack braved himself to speak. "Nobody's here!"

"You say so, kid," Devon said. He stopped speaking when he saw something. "Hey, you're a choirboy?"

He lifted the choir tog—_Ralph's_ choir tog—from the bed. Jack gulped inwardly.

"Ralph has one!" Ross said with a sneer. "That scum, always can't leave people alone."

"And it seems like this brat is helping him. What should we do to him, little brother?"

"I don't know," Ross' eyes brightened in excitement. Of what, Jack really didn't want to know. "Maybe teach him a lesson or two for creeping into our house."

Jack didn't have the time to avoid the blow on his stomach. He grunted and fell onto his knees. Flashes of his past came clouding his mind, changing his surroundings. The darkness of the orphanage made blood drained out from his face.

_Merridew! Jackson Merridew! Bloody hell, what a brat you are!_

_Eat this, damn you! Or you won't have dinner for three days!_

_Your friend Roger's passed out again, Jack!_

_Jackson Merridew! Rick Ellis! Why d'you two always fight? Three days of no dinner, starting now!_

_Oh look... such a pretty little redhead. D'you have some money for old Uncle Robs?_

And suddenly the orphanage changed. The last scene of little Jack stabbing someone who wanted to rob him vanished. That was when he realised that Ross was kicking him. He growled in pain and launched himself up to put up some fight.

Jack hadn't fought for years. Not since he came back from the island. But this… this awakened his inner savage, the self he thought he had gotten rid of. Savagery flooded in his veins as he stood up. He flew his fist and it landed on Ross' face, who grunted. Jack's eyes widened and shone in something unrecognisable… something _wild_.

But then, something else happened.

Ross' face changed. The fair face twisted, blackened, transformed. It was like that time… the hunting time. The blond hair disappeared and was replaced by a set of black, short ears. Jack could hear the buzzing of flies around him.

Jack let out a shrill cry at the sight of The Lord of the Flies in front of him.

_"KILL THE BEAST!"_

He was going to take his spear when everything went dark.

* * *

When Jack reopened his eyes, Ralph was bandaging his leg. Jack felt a rush of worry overcame him at the sight of the blond.

"You okay, I reckon." That, too, wasn't a question. He really hated to ask if people were okay.

"Yeah. They didn't see me," Ralph didn't look up from what he was doing. "But you're not."

Jack knew that after the numbness of his injuries had passed, it would be a hell to pay. The thought made him groan. Ralph tsked but didn't say anything.

"You threw your musical stand to Ross," Ralph said after a while of awkward silence. "You gave them quite a fright and they finally left you alone."

Jack hummed in mixed exhaustion, agreement, and amusement. He could see Ralph flashed a smile from his place.

"And I heard you."

"What?"

Ralph, now, was looking up at Jack, his eyes wide with fear and curiosity. He entwined his hand with Jack's. "You said 'kill the beast'. What happened?"

"It's just..." It was surprising, really, that no flashbacks played in Jack's mind right now. "I saw... I saw it."

"What?"

"It. The Beast. A pig's head on a stick." Jack found himself stammering and struggling to find more words. "_The_ _Lord of the Flies_. His face... his face changed. I just... couldn't see him anymore. What I saw... I saw it."

The other boy stood and sat next to Jack, his other hand was placed on Jack's shoulder, offering him refuge and assurance. "I see." He was silent afterwards. "Are you okay? Now?"

Jack decided to break the ice. "Well, if you see me bruised and bloody like now, you tell me," he joked, rather bitterly.

Ralph didn't laugh. But his eyes lit up in amusement and Jack could see it. "You lost your tooth, by the way," he said, putting the white little thing on Jack's open palm. "You're lucky nobody can see it."

Jack traced the now empty space in his mouth with his tongue. He smiled weakly. "I'm Roger then," he said.

Ralph's look was filled with confusion. "What?"

"He lost his teeth, remember?"

"Oh, that." Ralph looked thoughtful. "How's he? In the asylum, I mean."

"Same old Roge," Jack said. "Nothing really changed."

Ralph's face changed, and Jack could see the horror in it. "Not that," the redhead hurriedly said. "That... trait of his has gone. No worries. He's just the boy I used to know. My friend."

Jack knew Ralph didn't believe him and he understood that clearly. Even Jack was shocked when Roger had killed Piggy on purpose. It was true that Roger had done some sadistic things when he was little, like stabbing a bug repeatedly and throwing stones at smaller kids, laughing as he hit them one by one. But then, Jack had only dismissed it as a childish curiosity and some... not-in-a-right-mind actions.

"You two were really close," Ralph said quietly. That wasn't a question. Maybe he had learned from Jack to change his questioning tone.

"Yeah. He's my best friend, with all that... _flaws_."

"Flaws? You go poetic all of a sudden," Ralph said, or to be precise, attempted some joke. Maybe he, too, wanted to lighten things up. So Jack decided to take the bait.

"I'm a choirboy. What d'you expect?"

Ralph was grinning now, and Jack loved to see it.

Wait a sec, did he just say _love_?

He shooed the thought away and stared at the bright eyes of the other boy's. Ralph's grin turned into a small smile before it vanished.

"What?" Jack asked.

"Were they right?"

Jack tilted his head in confusion of Ralph's words.

"That you sneaked into my house just for taking your tog."

"_Your_ tog, Ralph," Jack corrected. Then he groaned because the pain was slowly back. "Hm. That. Well, it's true, actually. I thought you can figure that out by yourself."

"I thought you met Julia and she gave you that." Ralph blushed. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you do that?"

Jack knew he had to tell the truth. "You had nightmares," he said.

"Sorry," Ralph said quickly, looking downwards. His hands blindly touched Jack's bandaged arm and leg. "So it's my fault all this happened."

Jack would never stand people who go sulking and beating themselves up. He just… couldn't. _Especially Ralph_, his mind mocked. Jack snorted and that caused Ralph to look up. Then Jack let out a laugh which sounded too happy to be called as a forced one.

"Not your fault," he said, his tone was so soft it startled him. "I gave mine for washing that day. So it's _our_ fault."

"I'm serious here! You got beaten up because of me!"

Jack half-laughed and half-groaned as pain blossomed in his body. "I've been beaten enough to be immune about it," he said amusedly. Before Ralph could speak up his self-loathing words, he said, "Speaking about being beaten up, obviously I'm the one sick here… so, can you take me some water?"

Ralph mock-sneered at him (and Jack wondered when the blond had learned to imitate his famous sneer) as he jumped out from his seat. "Alright, Your Beaten-Up Highness," he said, bowing deeply.

But he didn't make a move towards the kitchen. Instead, he leant down and kissed Jack's spilt lips. The kiss was short and afterwards Ralph ran into the kitchen and the day went out normally.

* * *

A/N: Not so long, this one, but hope you like it! Review plz? :D


	5. Screams from a White Room

_Chapter Five: Screams from a White Room_

* * *

Two weeks had passed, and Jack's bruises had gone. He went out his normal life, but Ralph had lessened his time with him. He just didn't want to get both of them hurt anymore, he had said. And Jack had to admit he missed that boy.

"Jack."

Jack looked up from the book he was reading and saw Aunt Tanya, dressed tidily. He immediately knew where she was going. He, too, wanted to visit Roger today. "I'm coming with you, Aunt Tanya."

Aunt Tanya rolled her eyes at the fact that she had to wait for him now. Jack grinned at her and rushed upstairs, changing his clothes.

When he came downstairs, he was greeted by someone he was most expected.

"We're going to visit Roger today," he could hear Aunt Tanya's soft words. "Roger is my son, and I think you know him."

"Yeah, I know him," Ralph said slowly. Jack sneaked behind a wall so he could be unnoticed. "He's Jack's best friend and I met him on the… island."

"I hope you don't mind," Aunt Tanya said. "But d'you want to come with us?"

Jack gaped. He didn't know what possessed his adoptive mother to ask such a question to Ralph, but no use crying over spilled milk. Silence that covered the house was frightening.

"Ralph," he could hear her voice. "You coming?"

More silence, but then he could hear Ralph said something. It was so low, but Jack could hear it.

"Yes."

* * *

The asylum would never change, that was one for sure. One of Jack's therapy sessions had taken him here, and he hated it so much. The white corridor was silent, but Jack could hear screams from every closed door and that had broken him down back then. Or maybe he just imagined it and was going barmy, he didn't have any idea.

There was always a doctor, or a nurse, accompanying them, telling them about Roger's recent condition. "Roger's behaviour hasn't changed, Mrs. Carter," the nurse said, looking through her clipboard. "Since your last visit, he just sits there and stares out at nothing. But he has eaten well, much better than before, and we can say it's a good step."

Jack remembered when Roger had first been admitted into the asylum. He still had a faint scar on his upper arm, where Roger had thrown a shard of glass to. He slowly traced the scar, covered by the sleeve of his shirt, as his mind drifted. He was in Roger's old room, back to that day, three years ago.

He had been alone with Roger, while the doctors and nurses took care of his medicines. One of them talked to Aunt Tanya, who had just known about his son. At that time, she had just finished Jack's adoption papers and took over Roger's custody. Roger was listed with no surname, so once he got home, he would take Uncle Gareth's; _Carter_. Besides, both Aunt Tanya and Uncle Gareth doubted he wanted to take his biological father's surname.

_Who are you?! Let me go! Get off me!_

_Roge, it's okay!_, Jack could hear himself screaming, trying to calm the dark boy. _It's Jack! You know me, Roge! I'm Jack, for God's sake!_

_You're not that bloody Jack!_, Roger had looked around frantically, struggling on his restraints. _You're not the Chief! The Chief won't let me get tied up like this! We need to go hunting!_

Jack had approached him. _Roge, we've been rescued, remember?_

_Of course not!_, Roger had screamed. _We should go hunting now! We've ran out of meat!_

Jack, feeling exasperated, was going to leave the room and call for the doctors and nurses when he heard a loud, crashing sound. He had looked back and his eyes had widened of what he saw.

Roger had slipped his tied wrists between the headboard's bars and managed to break the thin window. His eyes were so wide and wild they looked almost red. Jack had approached him, wanting his friend to see the truth. _No, no, Roge, it's me! The island's long gone now!_

_This is just a dream!_, Roger had hissed. He had lifted his hand as high as he could and threw the small but sharp glass towards Jack. _I remember burning the forest! It was fun!_

The glass had flown to Jack, who didn't have any time to avoid the impact. The glass collided against the skin on his upper arm, and blood streamed down from the rather large cut almost instantly. He grabbed his arm and ran outside the room. He found the nurses and Aunt Tanya, who had been so panicked she almost fainted at the sight of his arm.

_Jack! Oh my God, are you okay?_

"Jack?"

Jack snapped back to reality and looked for the source of voice. He saw Ralph with faint amusement on his face.

"Jack, where are you going?"

Jack realised that he had passed Roger's room because his mind had made him occupied. With a small, sheepish smile, he walked back towards them. The nurse waited until he rejoined them and opened the door. "Roger, you have a visitor," she said.

Then she turned to Ralph. "You better wait here first, Mr. Foley. Roger has to be introduced to someone new by someone he knows well."

So, Aunt Tanya walked inside first. Although he rarely talked, Roger had grown to like her, and Jack could tell that clearly, thanks for their lifetime friendship. Although too quiet for his own good, Roger was a pretty smart boy. He could see who the good people were and who weren't. Uncle Gareth came sometimes, with Aunt Tanya, and Roger seemed to like him in the first place, too.

But Jack knew Roger was the happiest when he came. Jack was his best friend, after all, a constant presence in his life. The same went to Jack. So he watched as Aunt Tanya made his way to Roger's bed and sat next to him.

"Hello, little guy," she called motherly. Roger turned his head to her and smiled faintly. Jack knew he liked being called that. Nobody had cared much to little Roger back on that hell of an orphanage, so being called by such an affectionate nickname cheered him up. Jack himself didn't really like being called like that. It was because Aunt Tanya wasn't his real mother, and that would be awkward.

"How are you?" Jack decided to speak up as he made his way into the room. He hated Roger's room. The room was white, glaring white, and he just couldn't stand it.

_Well, at least it was better than the sickening green of the forest._

His mind was right.

"Fine." Roger muttered.

"Good," Aunt Tanya beamed at him. She was the one who got overjoyed when Roger said a word, not caring how small and short it was. She cherished every second she went through with her son, and Jack's insides clenched at the fact that this wasn't his mother. "We're taking another friend with us. You know him."

"Maybe you don't want to meet him, but he wants to see you," Jack said. Okay, he lied a bit. Just a little white lie, after all. He glanced at Ralph, who gave him a disapproving frown.

"Alright," Roger finally said after a long pause.

So Jack nodded at Ralph, who stepped inside.

At the sight of the fair boy, Jack could see blood drained out from Roger's face. Suddenly the dark boy opened his mouth and a loud, guttural scream clawed itself out his throat. Both Jack and Aunt Tanya were thrown off the bed as the boy began to thrash around.

_"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHH!"_

"What's happening?!" Ralph yelled as he was pulled outside the room by the nurse.

"Seeing you trigger things!" Aunt Tanya said between the screams, trying to hold Roger's flailing hands. Jack was relieved that this room had no windows. The nurse fumbled through the nearest medicine cart, trying to find some sedative or something. Ralph helped her as the screams echoed in the previously quiet halls.

Jack knew he had to do something. He caught Roger's legs and held them down. He looked up at the dark face and gasped.

Tears had streamed down his cheeks and he was biting his lip, hard enough to draw blood. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and his cheeks were flushed red. Sometimes he would open his mouth and continued to scream.

It was really horrible to be seen.

"Roge, what on earth?" the redhead asked, panicked.

No answer. Only those screams. Then, Roger began to say something audible.

_"Kill the beast! Slit his throat! Bash him in!"_

_"Kill the beast! Slit his throat! Bash him in!"_

Jack gasped once more, face paling and mind reeling. He looked desperately at the opened door, looking for help. Ralph and the nurse were gone, much to his panic. Jack realised that they were going off taking for another sleeping pills and whatnot. He saw Aunt Tanya's face, which was as white as a sheet.

"Roger! Stop it!" she shrieked, still managing to hold his wrists.

Roger continued to chant that horrible song, only he changed the words.

_"Kill those kids! Break the conch! Kill the Chief! Slit their throats! Throw a boulder! Burn the island!"_

Jack released Roger's thrashing legs and staggered back. The song grated into his hearing and he couldn't stand it anymore. His mind started to replay horrible scenes back on the island and suddenly he couldn't breathe.

_You let the bloody fire out! There was a ship! THERE WAS A SHIP!_

_You and your blood, Jack Merridew!_

_All you can do is talk, talk, talk!_

_I'm going off by myself. Anyone who wants to come can come._

_It's not Simon. It's the Beast in disguise._

_We'll steal that fat kid's glasses._

_See? SEE?! There's no tribe for you anymore! I'm chief!_

_We'll smoke him out._

_No dead bodies, I hope?_

After Jack could regain some of his senses, Roger had changed his song.

"Kyrie, Kyrie, Kyrie Eleison! Kyrie, Kyrie, Kyrie Eleison!"

That was the last bloody straw.

"STOP IT!" Jack screamed as the demons returned from their lair on his farthest side of mind and started to taunt him. "STOP IT THIS INSTANT!"

He fell and rolled on the cold, linoleum floor, and started to cry. He could see nothing. Nothing but the green forest and the fire and the ocean and the shattered shelters and the conch and the spears and The Lord of the Flies and the Beast and Simon's dead body and a pig's blood and Piggy's cracked specs and the boulder and Piggy's corpse and the ironic naval officer and Ralph's tears and... and... andandandandandandand…

"Jack? Jack, what happened?"

_That voice_. He blurrily saw whiteness and a flash of fair hair near him. He could feel a warm hand touching his shoulder and he recoiled. He hated that boy!

"DON'T TOUCH ME! I'M CHIEF! NOT YOU!"

"Jack! We've been back for three years! Jack!" Ralph's screams almost defeated Jack's own demons. "Remember? You've been adopted and I've been into your house for God-knows-how-much!"

But Jack continued to thrash on the floor and he could faintly heard Roger's screams fading. "He needs a sedative too!" Jack could hear an unfamiliar voice.

A strong force held him down and then everything went dark.

* * *

Hours later, Jack woke up and saw Aunt Tanya next to his bed. He looked around, rather frantically. He didn't feel any pain, his head just slightly ached. So he didn't hurt himself.

_Good for you_, his mind said sarcastically_._

"You're in another room, in case you're wondering," she said softly. The redhead noticed the sweaty brow and messy black hair. _She must've been exhausted_, he thought. He wondered why now, after all this time, he finally realised that how much Roger resembled his mother.

"Is Roger okay?" he croaked.

"He's sleeping now." Aunt Tanya didn't elaborate. She sighed instead.

Then something else came into Jack's mind. "Where's Ralph?"

She smiled weakly. "Outside. He needs some fresh air." Then she straightened.

Jack didn't say anything, but he sensed something... bad would happen.

"Jack," she said, more like whispering. "Do you need... you know... more therapy?"

The redhead found himself shaking his head vigorously at her. "No!" he adamantly refused. "I just... that won't help. No, just no."

When he had been into the therapy, which had lasted more than two years, he couldn't tell everything to his therapist. He was supposed to, but he couldn't. His therapist had been a really nice lady, but she was a stranger and Jack couldn't open himself to strangers. But Aunt Tanya was different. She was his adoptive mother... his _mother_.

_And children are supposed to tell secrets to their mothers, right?_

Aunt Tanya blinked at the sudden panic. "Alright then," she said eventually. "But if you need someone to talk to, you know where to find me." She stood. "I should go check on Roger."

Jack didn't want her to go. No, not now. So he blurted out the word that Aunt Tanya had wanted to hear since he was adopted. The word that Jack had avoided to use all this time. But Aunt Tanya had been so nice to him, who was he for not giving her something she deserves?

"Mum."

Her gasp was loud, and Jack would laugh if this wasn't so... tense. She sounded so silly, gasping like that. When she looked back at him, her eyes were brimmed with tears. "Yes, dear?"

"Thank you," he managed to let out the words. The word sounded foreign on his tongue. Maybe it was because he wasn't accustomed by expressing his gratefulness.

Apparently she knew what he meant with that 'thank you', and for that he thanked her. "You're so very welcome, my dear," she said. "I really have to go, the nurse's called me since you're still asleep." And then she left.

Jack sighed. He was alone anyway. He shouldn't be selfish. She just wanted to check on her son, and Jack wasn't her son, after all. He was alone for a while before the door was knocked. "Who's there?" he asked.

"It's me."

Jack held his breath, knowing exactly who it was. After a long pause, he spoke. "Come in."

The door was opened immediately and a certain fair boy walked in. His hair was messy by something Jack didn't understand, and his eyes were red. "Hello, Ralph."

Ralph sat on the edge of the bed. "Hi, Jack. Is it okay if I... sit here?"

Jack merely nodded. There was an awkward silence between them, and Ralph decided to break it.

"D'you know why I wanted to come here? On the first place?"

"No."

Ralph took a deep breath and stared out to the nearby window. "When I was under therapy, there was a boy who looked much like Roger."

Jack nodded, remembering the day Ralph told him about his therapy. "And one looked like me and twins looked like Samneric."

Ralph nodded. "This boy... I called him Roger, but his name's actually Lewis. He told me that he knew I was scared of him the most."

"Not even... me?" Jack asked in disbelief. "But I..."

"You... You were my friend before... _before_, Jack," Ralph answered softly. "It wasn't easy too, but I could get past that."

"But Roger wasn't."

"He wasn't my friend, at least not as close as you and me. I barely knew him, and he killed Piggy and it was just..." Ralph choked at his words and tears started to fall from his eyes. Acting on instinct, Jack leant forward and using his hand to wipe Ralph's tears away. "He was much harder for me to forgive. At least... you didn't kill Simon on purpose. And he was the one who told us Simon was the Beast."

"Yeah," Jack whispered as he scooted closer to Ralph. "I remember."

"Maybe seeing him... the _real_ him, can make things better." Ralph sighed. His face hardened in self-disgust. "Well, it's not. See, Jack? I failed again."

Jack recoiled. "Of course not! He just had a... a hysterical moment by seeing someone else from the island!"

Ralph jumped down the bed, which creaked dangerously in disapproval. "How about _you_, then?!" he shouted. "You've seen me all this time, and what? You went bonkers as well! It's my entire fault and Jack, stop babbling and just admit it!"

Jack jumped down the bed too. Irritation and exasperation got into him and he gripped Ralph shoulders. Then he did something he had wanted to do since Ralph started to beat himself up. He shook the blond's body so hard he could hear Ralph's teeth gritting.

"I freaked out because Roger started to sing our hunting song! Not because of you!"

"But if I hadn't come on the first place—"

"Stop. That. This. Bloody. Instant," Jack hissed. But Ralph didn't—_couldn't_—stop. Finally he stopped shaking the smaller boy and crushed his lips on Ralph's. Like before, the self-depreciating words were muffled, much to Jack's happiness.

The kiss was long, and rough, as if the two teenagers wanted to pour all their frustration on the kiss. They finally stopped when oxygen became a requirement, and they panted for air. Ralph looked at the floor and he began to tremble. Jack awkwardly gathered him into his arms and held him as he burst into tears.

Ralph was crying for mercy, a cry of desperation and anger and fear and self-loathing and pity. His entire body shook with the heartbreaking sobs and Jack could do nothing but to hold him tighter and pat his hair. He kind of wished that he had his choir tog with him. That maybe could make things easier.

They stayed there, stood in the middle of the empty, small room, and Ralph's cries were the only source of voice. Jack rocked him slowly, back and forth, like what one of the 'nice' orphanage keepers had done to him when he was little.

Finally the cries stopped and Ralph looked up at Jack. His eyes were bright and showed the redhead something which he could see completely. Jack smiled a small smile and kissed him again, because he knew that look existed on his eyes as well.

In this glaring white room, two boys finally found their releases.

* * *

A/N: The longest chapter, I guess. My favourite. Review plz? :D


	6. Welcome Home, Roger!

_Chapter Six: Welcome Home, Roger!_

* * *

**Three days later.**

"You haven't told me about your school."

"What d'you want to hear?" Ralph asked. He was lounging on Jack's bed as they did their homeworks together. Being in different school gave them different school assignments, but Ralph had some books that could help Jack and the redhead had a quiet house without threatening brothers to interfere.

"Your friends," Jack said. It sounded more like an order.

Ralph straightened. Jack knew that nobody in Ralph's school knew about the island before Ralph came back from the therapy. Well, that went on until Ralph's brothers told his friends about Ralph's 'madness'. "What about them?" he asked stiffly.

Jack shrugged. "After what your brothers said to them. It's been more than a month."

"Some still don't want to go near me. But the rest are pretty okay, I guess. Percival defended me one day."

Jack looked at the boy on his bed. "What happened?"

"This guy insulted me. He called me a batty island boy and Percival punched him. They went into the detention room for two days. I guess he has that spirit of a… a _savage_." Ralph eyed Jack worriedly, but Jack merely nodded at the mention of that word, gesturing him to continue. So Ralph did. "You should see him, he's grown so big."

"I wonder if they want to see me again."

"I've told Samneric about you."

"Hm."

"They want to see you someday, if what I told them was true. And you know I never lie to people."

Jack grinned. He looked down at his book and continued to write. Above him, he could hear Ralph moved his body, creaking the bed.

"What about yours?"

"What?"

"Your school."

"Oh." Jack was silent for a moment. He didn't really have any friends, outside of the choirboys, and they didn't even go to his new school, save for Robert. He was a calm and collected boy. Only his brain and calmness had given him the Head Boy status. "Which one?"

Ralph had known that he went into a dormitory when he came into the island, since he was a Head Boy. It was a dorm for orphans and ex-orphanage kids (if they wanted to stay after they got adopted). When he got back, Henry's brother had taken his place. About a month later, he had met Aunt Tanya—Mum—and was adopted. When he was adopted, he moved out from that dorm and into a public school. The rest was history.

"Your dorm?"

"I liked it there, but it started to get boring to me. I mean, I liked being away from the orphanage, but I don't like handling all those stubborn boys. I'm still proud of it, though. And... then I came home from the island and I realised that I couldn't lead anymore."

"So you moved." Ralph's tone was steady.

"Not technically. Mum wanted to spend time with me more, since Roger's in the therapy, and I knew it was my chance."

It was odd, at first, to call Aunt Tanya as Mum, but Jack liked it. It sounded like he had a normal family he dreamed to have. Ralph seemed to like it as well, but his eyes had gone misty when he heard it for the first time. Jack wondered why.

Ralph poked him and Jack automatically stared at those eyes. "We shared that feeling."

"What?"

"I didn't want to lead anything anymore, I still don't. And I heard you, when you said I was the better chief. I don't know... but that just..."

"You didn't do anything wrong. As a chief."

"Who said that? I couldn't keep us intact. I was too uptight. If I weren't that... bossy, you would be still around and Simon and Piggy would be still alive and nothing bad could happen! I know I'm a sc—"

Suddenly Jack kissed him, just wanting him to shut up. When he released the breathless blond, he had changed the subject.

"My new school's quite nice, I think. Nothing really special. But my vocal teacher has told me she will get me into Guildhall or St. Daniel."

"St. Dan? As in, St. Daniel's Institute of Arts?" Ralph said, deciding to go along in the story. He still looked a bit ashen, but he forced a smile to his face, much to Jack's relief. He didn't know how long he could last if he continued to listen to Ralph's self-loathing rants. "That's great! What d'you choose?"

Jack shrugged it off, but he was proud as well. "Maybe St. Dan. It's cheaper and I don't want to be away from home too long. How about you?"

Ralph sighed. His sullen mood was back. Jack cursed himself. "My father wants me to follow his footsteps, to the Navy."

"Ralph," Jack said, rather roughly. "The War has been over for more than three years. You don't need to join if you don't want to. You need to stop worrying so much."

"You would if your brothers are ready to kill you once you rebelled!" Ralph exploded, and ran outside. Jack didn't chase him. He knew doing something like that would be just useless. So he waited for Ralph to come back. And as he waited... well, there were some questions on his essay that he had yet answered.

He was going to write when he heard the phone rang. He rushed outside his room and saw Mum taking it. He was going to go back to his assignment when she called, her voice serious.

"Jack? D'you see Ralph? Someone wants to talk to him."

Jack jumped from his seat and rushed outside. "Who's that?" he whispered, slightly panicked. He hoped it wasn't one of his brothers or something.

Mum's face was pale. She looked so shocked it confused Jack.

"It's Roger."

* * *

"What did he say?"

Ralph and Jack were lying down on Jack's bed, trying hard not to push each other out from the small bed. Their essays and assignments were forgotten because of that sudden phone call. Ralph and Roger had talked for almost an hour, and Jack had no idea what were they talking about. But Jack had squatted next to a slightly crying Ralph, trying to calm him down through the entire conversation.

_That conversation must've been something important_.

But still, he couldn't hear what Roger had said. And that made him wonder.

"He dreamed yesterday." Ralph said, looking at the ceiling. "Piggy and Simon came to him. At first they started to blame him of what had happened. They said he killed them, and he deserved to be in the asylum and things like that."

Jack almost snorted. Simon was batty, yes, but he was too kind for blaming someone like that. He was too nice for his own good, for God's sake. Roger hadn't really known Simon back in the choir, but even a stranger could practically see a halo on Simon's head.

As for that Fatty... Piggy (Ralph had told him his real name was John, but Jack couldn't bring himself to call him that), Jack knew his heart was as good as Simon's and Ralph's, and he, too, couldn't imagine Piggy blaming someone like that. Those Piggy and Simon who came into Roger's dream must've been his own imagination.

"But then he saw me."

Jack sat up, the action almost made him fall from the bed. "He saw you." That was supposed to be a question, but Jack, as usual, didn't really want to 'show his stupidity'.

"He saw me. He said I came between Piggy and Simon and told things that he deserved to move on and that... dream-me said Roger was sorry for everything that had happened. I don't really remember the rest."

"Must've been really bad," Jack said. Between his own intense therapy, Simon and Ralph and Piggy and Samneric and the littluns had came to his dreams, blaming him as well. Mum and his therapist helped him so much to get through those nightmares.

"It was, he said. You should hear his tone, Jack."

Jack said nothing. Ralph said nothing as well. And the day passed out in silence.

* * *

A week later, there was a shocking call from the asylum. Mum, who had taken it before Uncle Gareth—Jack wasn't as close to him as he to Mum, so he still couldn't call him Dad—went to work, had jumped up and down in intense happiness.

"What is it, Tanya?" Uncle Gareth asked. He wasn't a kind of man who would call his wife 'honey'.

"It's Roger!" she practically squealed in delight. "The nurses just told me that Roger has made great progresses in there and if this continues, he can go home in a month!"

Jack, who was eating his breakfast, almost choked on his meal. _Roger's going home_! He smiled and hugged his adoptive parents. He knew they deserved this, Roger deserved this.

But something else crept into him. Something indescribable.

* * *

Ralph, as usual, was the only one who understood.

"You're jealous, aren't you?" he asked. They were hanging out in Jack's room, as usual.

And Jack couldn't deny it. So he stayed silent.

"They love you so much, Jack. Nothing will change."

"But Roger's her real son!" he started to rant. Words came out uncontrollably from his mouth. "Of course they will want him more than they want me! And I? No parents, no siblings! Who am I, anyway? A lucky boy who got adopted because he's a best friend of her son! And wh—"

Ralph had silenced him with a kiss. It was also rough, like when Jack had silenced Ralph from his rants.

"Well, you have me, at least. I'm not going anywhere."

Jack smiled. He was right, after all.

"Let me tell you something," Ralph continued. "I guess both of us have issues. But that's the thing that makes us stick together."

Jack's smile turned into a grin. "You're right, of course," he said aloud and grinned wider when he saw Ralph beamed in pride, something he rarely saw.

* * *

When Roger finally came home, Jack and Mum and Uncle Gareth had made a homecoming party. Mum spent half a day making Roger's favourite cake, which she knew from Jack. Jack remembered when both of them were walking near a bakery and met a generous woman who had shared her cake to them. Roger loved that cake. Jack hoped he still remembered.

Ralph, who fled from his house (again) was told to bring Roger home with Uncle Gareth. After Uncle Gareth signed the papers, Roger (who was now officially Roger Ethan Carter) could be out from the asylum. He had been told about his new surname and accepted it with a silent nod.

The party went quietly, but every people in it enjoyed themselves. Roger, in fact, still remembered the cake he once loved, much to Jack's joy. Jack could tell how happy he was to be there at his new home, instead of the dark, dingy orphanage or that glaring white, pillow-y room of an asylum.

"Jack and Ralph helped much, dear," Mum said when Roger had expressed his gratefulness. "Thank them too."

"Thanks," Roger said, his voice barely above a whisper. Ralph awkwardly patted his back and Jack nodded back at him, smiling. Jack knew he didn't really like to be touched, but Ralph didn't know that and the redhead was relieved to see that Roger let it pass. _He must've been so happy_.

After the small feast (Jack wondered why he used that word again), Jack took Roger to his new room, which was next to his own. Ralph had gone home at that time, and now Jack was alone with his best friend.

It was weird, to see how awkward they were to be called best mates. But then Roger put down his small bag and inhaled deeply. Jack almost gaped in shock when he saw the dark boy smiled.

"I like it here," he said quietly. "My mother treats you well. I'm glad."

Jack smiled too. "Yeah," he answered brightly.

Roger lifted his arms as if he wanted to hug Jack, but then apparently he held that idea. Instead he looked down and shuffled his feet, a gesture he used to do when he was nervous. But then he looked up and the smile changed into a grin. Jack grinned back at him.

With that grin, both knew their friendship was still there.

* * *

A/N: Short, about Roger's homecoming. Hope you like! Review plz? :D


	7. Meeting Two Boys

_Chapter Seven: Meeting Two Boys_

* * *

Four days had passed uneventfully.

Jack looked up at the window; it was raining for God-knows-how-long. Roger was in the dining room, eating his lunch with Mum, and Uncle Gareth was working. Jack himself was sitting in the living room, reading the newspaper without interest. He was looking for the scholarship to go to St. Daniel. His teacher had mentioned that she would help him, but he wondered if he could try to find the scholarship himself.

Several minutes had passed when suddenly there was a knock on the door. Jack, being the one closest to the front door, jumped from his seat and opened it. He was actually expecting Ralph, and maybe it was him. Instead of Ralph, he gaped at the sight of two boys soaking wet on his doorstep.

"J-Jack?" they said in unison, gritting their teeth and trembling like a leaf. Jack knew that they weren't shaking just because of the cold. The two boys were identical twins, with light brown hair and identical looks. They had grown, a bit broader but still shorter than Jack. The redhead only needed a minute to realise who they were.

"Samneric?"

* * *

Jack rode his bicycle below the hard rain, not caring of his wet clothes and mud that was dirtying the wheels and his feet. Samneric rode their own bicycles in front of him, and they were as fast as a lightning. Jack had told Roger that he had to go and not to tell Mum where he was going. The dark boy merely stared at him and nodded silently, giving him a box of first aid kit, much to Jack's shock.

Samneric had told him that they saw a group of boys beating up Ralph near their school. They said they remembered how often Ralph talked about him and decided to look for the redhead's help. Jack had felt a tinge of pride (well, nobody really talked about him as fondly as Ralph did) before frantically searching for his bicycle.

It was obvious that Samneric were still scared of seeing the former savage again, but this was an emergency and they knew that. Jack knew that they tried their best to hold themselves in order to help their old chief.

The twins took him to an unfamiliar neighbourhood, in which Jack saw the name of Ralph's school nearby. Jack swished his red fringe away from his eyes and stopped in front of a small field. It was getting dark, and the field was empty. He could feel the rain slowly decreasing, but it was still hard. Well, at least there was no thunder anymore.

"Jack!" Sam shouted.

Eric followed. "He's here!"

Jack jumped from his bicycle, not caring of where it landed, and rushed towards a pile of bushes. What he saw shocked him. Samneric were squatting around a barely conscious Ralph, trying to make him stay awake. Jack felt a surge of anger filled his veins as he looked at the twins and said that order. He knew who was responsible behind this. Not was, _were_.

"Carry him."

* * *

Samneric lived in a small, cosy house near the field, so they went there. Ralph barely recognised the three of them. His nose was broken (again) and apparently some of his bones were as well. His eye was bruised shut like when Jack had seen him months ago. Jack and the twins did their best to heal him, but he needed something more. They couldn't heal broken bones, and who knew what more damage that broken body was holding?

"He needs—"

"—a hospital."

Jack didn't even look at them. "Yeah, yeah, guess you two are right," he said absentmindedly. He squatted next to Ralph, who was lying on the sofa, wearing an old shirt that belonged to Samneric's late brother (_who knows those clones had a brother?_), who had died in the War. The blond was warm from the fireplace's fire that Eric had lighted.

Jack leant down and whispered on his ear.

"Hey, we need to go."

Ralph, to his surprise, shifted his body. Then a small word was said through his split lips.

"Where?"

"To the hospital," Jack whispered. He glanced at Samneric, who left promptly. Apparently they knew what they should do. "You're hurt pretty bad."

Ralph let out something that resembled a bitter chuckle. "Don't," he croaked. "I'm fine. Just arm. Arm hurts. But I'm fine."

Jack felt his face got hotter in anger. "If you say that having broken bones and possibility of pneumonia is fine, then you're absolutely barmy."

Ralph shifted again. He looked like he was delusional, or maybe he really was. "Not batty. Simon was. Told me we'll get back alright."

Jack snorted, although that name sent small shivers down his spine. "Now shut up and we'll take you out."

"No, please."

"This needs to be bloody stopped," Jack almost yelled, making Ralph jerked on his 'bed'. "They could've killed you!"

Ralph lips shaped into a bitter smile. "Have escaped death more often than I thought," he said slowly. "Maybe I really need it."

That was the last bloody straw. Jack grabbed his shirt collar and smashed his lips upon Ralph's split ones, who muffled in mixture of pain and something resembled pleasure. The kiss wasn't hard, because Jack didn't want to hurt the blond more, but it surely said something.

"If you die, what would happen?" Jack said angrily. He blurted out something that had been lurking in his mind for months. "What would happen to me? To _us_? I don't like failures, Ralph, and you're not one of them."

Ralph didn't say anything. He kept silent until the taxi which would take them to the nearest hospital came.

* * *

Jack had called Roger and told him he was in the hospital and he would go home late. Surprisingly, about an hour later, he appeared in the hospital, with Mum and Uncle Gareth in tow. _So he was home early_, Jack thought in mixed amusement and surprise.

Jack, Samneric, Roger, and Uncle Gareth were waiting in the waiting room, while Mum met the nurse and asked what happened.

"He'll live," she said, reciting what the nurse had told her. "His ribs are cracked and his arm is broken. They have to do some operation. It's a pretty bad break, his arm. And he almost got pneumonia, if he was too late." Her eyes flickered to Jack and Samneric. "Well done, boys," she said fondly.

Samneric merely nodded, looking scared. Jack immediately knew what was happening.

He stood. "Samneric, can you come with me?" The name felt foreign on his tongue. Maybe that was because he never used it on the island. He merely called them 'those twins' and 'two of that littluns' or something else he didn't bother to remember.

The twins obliged as they followed Jack outside, feeling too happy to leave the waiting room. When they had settled down on an empty corridor, Jack looked at them intently.

"How are you?" he asked, deliberately not using the cold tone he had used on the island.

"We're fine—"

"—thank you."

"And you?"

Jack smiled. He was always impressed of how they talked. Maybe that was because he didn't have a twin, or a sibling in that matter. "I'm okay, at least. And how was your therapy?"

Sam—now he knew how to see the differences between the two of them—smiled. "Fine too—"

"—thank you."

Jack had never asked questions this long. "D'you know that Roger just came out from his intense therapy?"

"The asylum?" they asked in unison. Jack flinched at the sudden word, but he realised that they were right. So he nodded.

"He's okay now. I can see that he's nervous to see you two in here."

"We're afraid—"

"—of him."

"I know."

"And you too."

"I know." Jack repeated coolly. "And I understand."

"What should—"

"—we do?"

"Nothing," Jack said, standing up. "Just make sure Ralph's okay. Roger won't do anything to you, I'll make sure of that. And…" he looked down and shrugged. "I won't do anything to you either. I won't hurt both of you."

"We know—"

"—Ralph talks about you—"

"—all the time—"

"—and he told us you're nice now—"

"—and Ralph doesn't lie."

Jack nodded. "Yeah," he whispered, looking out to the dark sky. "He doesn't."

* * *

A/N: Samneric! Yay! Review plz? :D


	8. Confrontation

_Chapter Eight: Confrontation_

* * *

After two days in the hospital, Ralph was allowed to go home. He used a cast and fortunately he still could write, because the broken arm was his left one. His father had come after the operation, and that was the first time Jack saw him.

Mr. Foley was a tall, broad man. His hair was blond and his skin was fair. Other than that, he didn't look like Ralph. Mr. Foley looked much more like his older sons. And above all else, the thing that made him different from his youngest son was his eyes. His gaze held something hard and violent, reminding Jack to Ralph's abusive brothers.

Ralph's father was allowed some alone time with his son after the operation. He didn't take long, maybe less than five minutes. After he emerged from the room, Mum didn't waste any time to speak to him. She was furious of the beating, but Jack doubted she knew about Ralph's abusive family. But he knew it wasn't his place to tell her, so he merely watched as she made her way to the tall naval officer.

"I'm sorry if this sounds rude," she said politely. "But are you Mr. Kenneth Foley?"

The man merely nodded. She smiled forcefully and gave her hand to shake. "I'm Tanya Carter and my sons are friends with yours."

Mr. Foley nodded again and shook Mum's hand, but Jack almost didn't see it. He was too busy being proud of being considered as Mum's son. His train of thoughts was broken when Mr. Foley stared at him. "That redhead over there?" he could hear his clear, low voice.

"Yes," she said. "In fact, he and Ralph's friends were the ones who took him here. You should thank him for saving your son."

"I see," Mr. Foley said, but made no move to Jack, which the redhead had expected. Mum seemed to notice this as well, for Jack saw her face hardened in suppressed anger. Now Jack understood why Ralph never mentioned his father. He didn't even care about him!

"Mr. Foley," Mum said, grabbing his attention. "I'm just wondering, if you're aware of the... physical bullying that happened to Ralph."

"He'd gotten into a therapy, and he never told us about that," the man answered, but Jack could see his face paled a bit. "No, I don't have any idea."

Mum pressed him, and said the words that shocked Jack to the core. "Maybe your _own_ sons abuse him."

_Oh, this is getting interesting_, Jack thought in bitter amusement.

"Really?" Ralph's father feigned his surprise. Fortunately, he wasn't a good actor. "What I know is that Ross and Devon never go too far than some military punishments. We're soldiers, Ma'am, and that's how we discipline our family. And it's not your business. Good afternoon."

He was going to leave, and Mum didn't want it to happen. But Jack's anger overcame his own calmness. The redhead shouted from his seat.

"But if Ralph is afraid of them wanting to kill him, is that how you discipline your son?!"

Mr. Foley looked back, his eyes shining dangerously. But Jack didn't fear him. He jumped from his seat, snarling as he did so. "Bet you don't know that your _sons_ came to my house and beat the bloody hell out of me!" He said the word 'sons' as if it was poison.

Jack could hear Mum's shocked gasp behind him, but he didn't care. "That's how you 'discipline' your son?" he shouted again. He had never shouted in a public place before this, and he felt a tinge of embarrassment, although the waiting room was empty. But Ralph's bruised face floated in his mind, fuelling his anger.

Mr. Foley was still silent.

"Yes, I did a mistake," Jack snarled. "I sneaked into your house, like a thief, a name that Ralph once called me. I took something that he needed the most from his room! But why I did that in the first place? Because he had a nightmare, for God's sake! A bloody nightmare! Why he had a nightmare? Because of your sons! Because of _you_!"

Jack launched himself towards the man, but arms held him back. He snapped his head and saw Roger, who had come back from the loo, and Mum herself. Roger's eyes were filled by mixed of fury and confusion, and Mum's were wet by tears.

"Jack, stop it!" she said.

And Jack did. Exhausted, he slumped on the nearest seat, still glaring at the stoic man before him. Mum stepped forward.

"If what my son said was true," she said icily, a tone that neither Jack nor Roger had ever heard before. "You're going to be in much trouble, sir."

* * *

When Jack came home three days afterwards, there was nobody home. Mum was probably with Roger, registering him into a public school. Yesterday, she had called the asylum to ask if her son was capable (because 'sane' sounded pretty harsh) enough to go around other kids his age again.

The answer was really satisfying.

The therapist from the asylum had stated that Roger was actually stable, but he had to bring some medicines with him when he was at school, and someone had to be his 'caregiver' and take care of him. Jack happily accepted that role. Roger was the only one who really understood him, after all.

_Well, him and Ralph._

But then Jack wondered why he didn't saw them at his school. His mind flew from Roger to Mum and to Ralph. Speaking about the fair boy, he hadn't come to his house since Ralph could go home from the hospital. Jack only hoped his family didn't give him a hard time.

He went into the dining room and saw a note on the table. He blinked when he saw Mum's neat writing.

_Jack,_

_Roger and I are in The Foleys._

_Mum_

Something cold gripped his heart. He had a bad feeling something would happen. So he abandoned the note, took his bicycle, and rode it down the street, towards Ralph's house.

* * *

Jack's feeling didn't happen. Well, not that bad, actually.

When he walked into the house, he saw Mum and a tall woman, discussing something with Mr. Foley. Jack wondered what it was, but she merely swished her hand and told him to go to Ralph's room, because the boy was expecting him.

So he did.

Ralph was sitting on his bed when Jack came in. Roger sat on the windowsill, reading. Both of them looked up when the redhead walked in. But then Roger shrugged and continued reading, ignoring Jack and Ralph completely.

"How's your arm?" Jack asked, patting the sling gently.

Ralph gave him a lopsided smile. His bruises were still there, but many had vanished, and the rest merely left him some faint colours. It was obvious that his body worked so hard to heal him as fast as possible. "Fine, I think. Isn't hurt so much anymore." He looked so adorable Jack leant down and kissed his nose.

"What's that for?" he asked.

Jack shrugged, his mind looking for the sappiest answer. "For making you feel better."

Ralph grinned and kissed him quickly, seemed to realise that Roger was around. Jack glanced at the dark boy, but the book he was reading apparently kept him occupied. Jack smiled at Ralph and kissed him again.

"D'you know what's Mum talking about there?" Jack asked.

Ralph shook his head. "Father said I can't interfere." He didn't say more, but Jack knew that Mr. Foley had threatened his son not to eavesdrop. His face felt hotter in growing fury.

"Roger?" Jack called. The other boy put down his book and his face was stoic as he listened to Jack repeating his question. He looked out the window afterwards, stayed silent. Jack realised that he wouldn't speak at all.

"Who's the other woman?"

"Mrs. Wilkinson?" Ralph asked back. "She's Samneric's mom, a social worker. She's quite nice, I think. Comes here often to see me and..." he shuddered, "my brothers."

They were silent afterwards, since they couldn't find anything else to talk about. But awhile later, Roger looked at Jack with narrowed eyes. Jack stood, fully knowing that Roger wanted to speak with him personally. So they walked into the empty room near Ralph's bedroom, and Jack stared at Roger, his eyebrow arched.

"What?" he asked.

Roger scoffed. "They're going to take Ralph out from here."

* * *

A/N: A better future for Ralph, everyone? :D Review plz? :D


	9. Separation

_Chapter Nine: Separation?_

* * *

That night, when Jack was going to bed, Roger called out for him from the next room. Jack's curiosity made him came and sat on Roger's bed, while the dark boy was changing his clothes to a pair of grey pyjamas. "What now?"

Roger shrugged as he played with the buttons of his pyjama. "How's the choir?" he asked back.

Jack lifted his eyebrow but decided to answer. "Fine. We just practiced a new song today."

The choir was practically Jack and Roger's world, for that had been their refuge from the hell of the orphanage. So, it was no wonder for Jack to see Roger's happy gaze. "What is it?" he asked.

"Sanctus."

Roger nodded. Jack knew he knew the song. "How's there?"

Jack knew how much Roger wanted to rejoin the choir. He chuckled when Roger jumped onto his bed, something he didn't dare to do when he was a child. "It's fine, I think. Many newcomers, but there are still Henry and Maurice."

"Hm."

Jack lost his patience. "Spill, Roge," he demanded, yawning. "I have school tomorrow."

Roger shrugged again. "Mum can't adopt Ralph," he said emotionlessly.

Jack straightened his back, eyes as wide as saucers. "What?"

"Got a call from the asylum," Roger said, and his voice was slowly cracking. "They said Mum can't be more... _burdened_ with another child." Although Jack knew he was distressed, he could also notice the venomous tone that tinted Roger's words.

"Because of—"

"Me." Roger sighed.

Jack fell silent. He actually knew that. He remembered when he had come to the asylum for the first time, and he heard Mum and one of the doctors talked about Roger. The doctor had eyed Jack disapprovingly and told Mum that in order to 'focusing her attention to Roger' she wasn't allowed to adopt another child. He didn't give it too much thought back then.

Roger eyed him sharply. "What are you thinking?"

"Where will he go?" Jack asked, not wanting to tell Roger that.

"Mrs. Wilkinson will take him away."

"He knows?"

"I don't think so."

"He can't go!" Jack could feel anger boiling inside him. "He's a minor; they can just take him to an orphanage like we had been!"

Roger merely nodded, staring at the seething Jack. Jack continued to rant, muttering curses and saying things that only he could understand. Roger tilted his head, waiting. About fifteen minutes later, Jack stopped and looked back at him, his eyes shone with twisted mischief.

"We'll take him from there."

"And?" Roger asked with sarcasm.

"Take him here."

"So Mum can get into trouble?" The dark boy rebutted, his tone filled with bitter realism, a tone that he never used. He vaguely, ironically, reminded Jack of a fat boy on the mountain, a conch on his hand and burning forest behind them. He shook his head vigorously, swished the image away.

Jack fell silent again.

"Seriously, Jack," Roger said, sitting up on the bed. "They maybe can take _you_ away from here and he'll come to replace you. D'you want it to happen? After all this time?"

Jack wanted to say yes. He really did. But selfishness and images of the dark, dingy orphanage won over his... pity towards Ralph. He slumped on the bed, his eyes never leaving Roger's. He gesticulated widely.

"You're right."

Roger's eyes shone in triumph. Jack wanted to crush it, but he knew his best friend was right. "I know you'll say that."

Jack huffed. "Is that the only thing you want to say? I need some sleep."

"No." Roger stopped, as if listening to something. "He's here."

"Wha—?" And Roger suddenly pulled him out from the room and downstairs and towards the backyard. It was freezing out there, and Jack started to shiver below his thin pyjamas. His eyes narrowed when he saw Roger pointing at an approaching form. It was unclear at first, but finally Jack could see what—_who_—it was.

"Ralph!"

The fair boy stood there after climbing the short fence, blinking nervously at him. He wore a cream sweater and white pyjama trousers and grey slippers, making him look whiter than usual. Jack approached him, his brow furrowed. "What are you doing here?"

Ralph didn't look back at him and Jack couldn't stand it. "What is it?" he demanded. Ordered, to be precise, but Ralph didn't seem to mind. "Tell me."

"They'll take me away," the blond whispered. He was trembling, but Jack knew it wasn't from the cold.

"How could they?" Ralph asked furiously.

Jack finally could find his voice again. Now he understood why Roger talked to him before. "Well, it's better than being in that hell," he retorted, pointing at the direction of Ralph's house. "You'll _die_ if you stay, Ralph."

Ralph narrowed his eyes. "Is it?" he asked in a hiss. "I thought you know it better than me?"

Jack tilted his head, waiting for him to elaborate. Ralph's eyes eerily—ironically—reminded Jack of a savage's. "I'll be sent to an orphanage, dear Merridew," he said venomously, so much unlike him. "I think you have any idea what it is."

The redhead was still silent. He exactly knew what how it felt. "You're going away," he exhaled softly. "To an orphanage."

Afterwards, Ralph exploded. He flung his healthy arm to Jack's shoulder and shook his vigorously. "D'you even care?" he snarled, as if he didn't dare to scream. "D'you even care of me, Jack Merridew?!"

Jack waited. His eyes were starting to get blurry as Ralph shook him, but he kept his mouth shut and did nothing. He knew it was his fault, if he just gave up his place in Mum's maybe Ralph wouldn't go anywhere.

But Jack was famous for his selfishness, and that didn't fade, even after all this time.

"You don't, do you?" Ralph's voice was cracking slightly. "All you care about is yourself!"

Before he could answer, Jack had staggered backwards and pain blossomed on his cheek. Ralph glared at him, his healthy hand curled into a tight fist. "Wh-what?"

"You know about this, don't you?" Ralph seethed. "But you don't give a bloody fuck about me, yes?! I was right! You haven't changed at all!"

Jack narrowed his eyes, wiping the blood from his mouth. Ralph was ranting and saying self-depreciating words as he paced circles in front of him. The sight was pretty heartbreaking, but the redhead did nothing.

But then Ralph whispered those words.

"I just don't want to lose you, after all this time."

That absolutely shattered Jack's defence. He halted Ralph's pacing and grabbed him roughly on his shoulders before crushing him in a very tight hug. It was so tight Jack wondered if he didn't do more damage on Ralph's broken arm.

"Let me go, you sod!" Ralph began to thrash, but Jack didn't loosen his embrace.

"I know," he said quietly to the trembling body wrapped in his arms. "And I care, Ralph Foley. I care so much, for God's sake."

The confession made Jack blush deeply and he was grateful the darkness hid it. He decided to keep talking. "I don't know what to do. We're just kids."

"But we've seen things kids don't see." Ralph said hollowly. It sounded more like a whine.

Jack buried his face on the tangle of messy fair hair, silently thanking Ralph's body warmth. The backyard was still freezing, but it was much better than before. "Despite of what we may think," he said with a tint of bitter realism. "Age isn't just a number this time."

"I know."

"You should go."

"Yeah." But neither moved.

Jack knew that Roger was watching them, but he didn't care. They stayed like that for a long time. And, for them, nothing else mattered outside each other's arms.

* * *

A/N: A bit flangst. Sorry, can't help it. Review plz? :D


	10. A Trial and a Performance I

_Chapter Ten: A Trial and a Performance (part 1)_

* * *

On the following day, Jack was called to the music class. It was both unsurprising and weird at the same time. Unsurprising because it was normal to Jack being called into the music class when he was having another. Weird because he had never been called in the middle of his Math lesson.

_Isn't she having another class to teach?_, he thought as he walked towards his music class.

His school's music class was better than the one he had in his old dorm, and the teacher was better as well. Her name was Miss Young, and she was pretty even in her early fifties. Her hair was tied tidily and she wore quite stylish glasses for a woman her age.

"Good morning, Mr. Merridew," she greeted, a small smile on her face. Her hand was holding a piece of paper. "Do you have any idea why I call you?"

Jack, realising the seriousness of the situation, shook his head. "No, Miss."

"I've contacted the principal of St. Daniel," she said. "And he approves of you."

"Really?" Jack's heart leapt in excitement and pride. "What should I do now?"

"He wants you to sing."

"Sing?" Jack asked, disbelief and underestimation clouding him. "That's all?"

"Yes," she answered. "I got the record of your solo on Kyrie Eleison from your old school. The one you sang before the War. That one is the best, and apparently he likes it too."

Jack nodded, although the irony made his insides colder. It was true that Kyrie was his best back then, but he swore he would never sing that song again, since it could trigger many memories from the island. And that song was the one that made him could go to his dream school. Nothing could be more ironic than that.

Miss Young noticed nothing and kept talking. "You can choose the song and have two weeks to practice. I'll help you."

"Thank you, Miss." He smiled.

She smiled back and patted his shoulder in an almost motherly way. "I'll tell you more tomorrow. Now scram."

Jack rushed out from the music class and was going to get into his current class when a girl called him. "Are you Jackson Merridew?"

"That would be me."

"You have a call," she said, her hand playing with her long hair. Jack sneered at the nervous gesture. He hated it when people went fidgety near him. He wouldn't bite them! "It's from your mother."

"Thank you," he said curtly before left to the teachers' room.

The teachers' room had a phone, which they called it as 'Student's Public Phone'. It was used by parents or people who needed to contact the students in a need of emergency and vice versa. When Jack arrived in front of the phone, he saw an elderly teacher who taught History. He stared at Jack intently before glanced at the phone.

"Your mother seems quite panicked," he said. "Pick it up, Merridew."

So Jack did, his heart racing.

"Mum?"

"Thank God! Jack!" she said rather dramatically. Her voice sounded distant. "I've been waiting for hours!"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Sorry, Mum," he said. "Miss Young called me."

"About St. Daniel? She called me earlier, and congratulations! She said you have to..."

Jack couldn't bear to hear his story being told. "Sing in front of him," he said, smiling. "It'll be wizard!"

"Yes!" she said, her voice sounded more cheerful now. But then the happiness died down as quickly as it appeared. "But it's not the reason why I called, Jack."

Something cold gripped Jack's insides, but he stayed silent.

"I... Roger... we saw you two yesterday. You and Ralph," she said, and Jack's breath hitched. "It... I decided to talk to Mrs. Wilkinson. We... let's say we have a deal."

"What?"

"Ralph will stay with The Wilkinsons. You know her sons, right? The twins, Sam and Eric?"

"Samneric," Jack corrected instinctively.

"Yes. Sam and Eric."

Jack rolled his eyes again. "So he'll stay there," he said, barely could contain his relief. "Thank God."

"Until the trial for his custody comes."

"What? But you can't adopt another child!"

"I can't," Mum's voice cheered softly. "But Mrs. Wilkinson can."

* * *

Jack was feeling pretty content now. Ralph was taken to Samneric's house and he was free to visit him every day after school, since Ralph's new house was far from Jack's. Besides, Jack had his bike to use.

Samneric were still cold and fidgety towards him, but he pretty much ignored them. One day Roger came and they fled from their own house. Ralph was uneasy with that, but Jack and Roger understood how much those twins feared them, and decided to let it pass.

To Jack's shock, and dismay, Ralph's trial came exactly the day he had to perform for his scholarship in St. Daniel. His father insisted that he and his oldest sons didn't abuse Ralph, and Jack felt that this trial would be bitterly interesting. He almost cancelled his meeting to St. Daniel, but Miss Young had stated that the principal was a very busy man and he didn't have any more time, so Jack grimly accepted.

Uncle Gareth took him to St. Daniel before he went back to the court. The man was quiet, so much unlike his wife and so much like Roger. Jack wondered if they would speak when they were put in a room. Jack knew that was why he couldn't get really close to his adoptive father.

"So... you're going there?" he asked on their way to the art institute.

"Yeah," Jack answered, looking out the window. The sky was darkening, giving them a sign that it would rain.

Jack could hear Uncle Gareth inhaling deeply. "Good luck," he finally said.

"Well, okay." Jack said. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Awkward silence covered them once again. Then Jack broke it, as he snapped his head at his adoptive father. "D'you think Mrs. Wilkinson will win?"

Uncle Gareth didn't look away from the street. "Of course she will."

"What makes you feel so sure?" Jack asked.

"No parents will win for child abuse."

"But they're still his family! And you should hear what that social worker said about their house!"

"I know," Uncle Gareth's voice was quiet. "But not because The Foleys have bigger house and better income can make him stay there. The Wilkinsons aren't as rich as them, but Ralph likes them, and that's the important thing."

Jack sneered. "That worker gave better score to his abusive family," he said bitterly.

Uncle Gareth suddenly stopped the car, and Jack wondered how come he didn't realised that they had arrived to his will-be school. "Listen, Jack," he said quietly but firmly. "It's all up to Ralph. It'll be his choice eventually. All you need to do now is sing."

Jack tightened his grip on his backpack. Uncle Gareth was right, as annoying as it was. "I don't want to come here today."

"Yeah," the man answered. "You want to go to Ralph's trial. We all know that."

"So why—?"

"Because we know this place," Uncle Gareth gestured at the huge building of St. Daniel. "Is your dream place and even Ralph wants you to go."

"He does?" Jack narrowed his eyes at him. "You're not lying, right?"

"What's the use?" the man shrugged. "Roger talked to him yesterday. He was quite angry, but he understood."

Jack didn't say anything. But Uncle Gareth did.

"Jack," he said in a voice that reminded Jack of a schoolmaster. "I know I'm not the best... father ever, and I can't be really close like Tanya, but I'm trying. You and Roger are great boys and we're proud to have you. My job," he paused, scratching his head. "Makes me go here and there for business trips, and... well, I've talked to my boss, Jack, and I decide to take more desk jobs. For you and Roger. I'm trying, really."

Uncle Gareth sounded like he had practiced before saying that, but Jack smiled anyway. When he was a little boy, he used to imagine if he were adopted. And those words came out from someone who would be his father someday.

"I can see that," the redhead said sincerely. "Dad."

* * *

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! I love all of you! Review plz? :D


	11. A Trial and a Performance II

_Chapter Eleven: A Trial and a Performance (part 2)_

* * *

"Good morning, Sir."

The principal of St. Daniel's Institute of Arts was a short man with eccentric clothes and dyed hair. He looked exactly like an artist. Jack had guessed he would see someone like this in these kinds of school, but he had never thought it would be the head of the school. Wizard.

"Good morning, Mr. Merridew." Mr. Smith, the name of the principal, greeted back. "This is Miss Christina Sorenson, St. Daniel's vocal teacher. She'll be here with me to see your performance."

Unlike Miss Young, Miss Sorenson was still young, maybe near her thirties. She had huge eyes and long black hair, and wore a long, grey dress, which made her look gloomy. Her appearance reminded Jack to Simon, unless she was almost as fair as Ralph. "Good morning, Miss," he said politely.

She merely smiled at him, but the smile didn't reach her eyes.

They took him into an empty hall. That was the hall Jack always dreamed to see. They had a huge, wooden stage and thick red curtain for play performances. Jack wondered if he could take a part in a play as well as in the choir.

_Well, maybe no_, his mind said. _You were a terrible actor, remember?_

Jack sighed inwardly. He was going to answer his mind when Mr. Smith spoke up.

"You're free to sing from the stage, Mr. Merridew. The stand is over there."

Jack looked at the side of the stage and took the musical stand. The stand wavered in his grip and Jack realised that he was trembling.

_Oh, no, you aren't trembling. It was the cold._

It was a terrible lie, of course. It was quite hot in the hall, although the place was empty. Jack sighed as he put the stand on the middle of the stage and opened his bag. He pulled out the musical score and wondered why he had to do that. He remembered the lyrics perfectly, after all.

"What are you going to sing?" Miss Sorenson asked.

"Suo Gân." Jack managed a quiet answer.

She leant against her seat, a sated smile on her face. "I always love that song. You may sing, Mr. Merridew."

Jack took a deep breath. He could do this, he could do this.

_Of course you can do this. You're Jack Merridew._

Before he went to the island, that thought alone could ease him. But now he wasn't so sure. He had lost his faith in himself since he realised that he had killed Simon. But he had to do this; it was his dream after all. So, he inhaled deeply and opened his mouth.

_Huna blentyn ar fy mynwes_

_Clyd a chynnes ydyw hon_

_Breichiau mam sy'n dynn amdanat_

_Cariad mam sy dan fy mron_

And then the hall changed. He was back in his bedroom, and it was dark. What shocked him was there was a bruised Ralph was squirming on his bed. Jack would never let him suffer in his own head. So he rode his bicycle to Ralph's house and stole his tog.

These thoughts, magically, didn't stop himself from singing.

_Ni cha' dim amharu'th gyntun_

_Ni wna undyn â thi gam_

_Huna'n dawel, annwyl blentyn_

_Huna'n fwyn ar frond y fam_

This time, Jack saw a bruised Ralph above him. Jack looked down and saw a first aid kit box on his lap. He bandaged Ralph's wounds and they talked with low voice. The low voices became higher and higher and Ralph exploded and Jack broke his rants by kissing him.

Kissing Ralph Foley was something that Jack would never forget.

_Huna'n dawel, heno, huna_

_Huna'n fywn, y tlws ei lun_

_Pam yr wyt yn awr yn gwenu_

_Gwenu'n dirion yn dy hun?_

Now, Jack's surroundings were dark, as if someone suddenly turned off the lights. The air was moist and clear, and there was a sound of wood cracking from the fire. He blinked and it didn't take him long to realise that he was back on the island. He blinked again, wanting the memory to recede.

But then there was a voice. _His_ own voice.

_Don't mind those boys. They have thrown children, especially Simon, into the lake every time they have a chance. They won't even dare to dream about it when I am around._

Then he heard a familiar answer. Ralph's voice.

_Maybe that's why he's so batty._

They talked, but Jack couldn't make out what were they talking about. Then they went silent, just staring at each other. And then Jack leant down and kissed Ralph's lips.

With a start, Jack realised that he remembered this time. This was when they first kissed, back on the island, more than three years ago.

_Ai angylion fry sy'n gwenu_

_Arnat ti yn gwenu'n llon_

_Tithau'n gwenu'n ôl dan huno_

_Huno'n dawel ar fy mron?_

_But if I hadn't come on the first place—_

The island disappeared, and Jack saw Ralph, pacing circles in a bright, glaring white room. He called himself a failure and a scum, and Jack jumped down from the bed and kissed him. Ralph started to cry, and Jack let him cry on his shoulder. It was heartbreaking, and Jack's sight went blurry (he adamantly refused to say that he was going to cry as well) as the blond continued to weep.

_Paid ag ofni, dim ond deilen_

_Gura, gura ar y ddôr_

_Paid ag ofni, ton fach unig_

_Sua, sua ar lan y môr_

Jack blinked. The hall appeared once, but he blinked again and it vanished. Instead of the huge, empty hall of St. Daniel, he saw a bruised and bandaged Ralph, lying down on Samneric's couch. He insisted his arm was fine, and Jack didn't believe him. They went into a small argument about hospitals, and Jack ended up kissing him.

_I'm fine. Arm hurts. But I'm fine._

Ralph's empty gaze when Jack had carried him into the taxi made his insides colder.

Jack had never felt so scared before. But the very thought of Ralph dying made him shiver. Fear crept into his insides and his singing voice began to waver. He felt lightheaded, Ralph's face floating in his mind, but he kept singing.

_Huna blentyn, nid oes yma_

_Ddim i roddi iti fraw_

_Gwena'n dawel yn fy mynwes_

_Ar yr engyl gwynion draw_

When Jack sang the final part of the song, he wasn't aware of the tears that were rolling down his cheeks. The only thing he was aware of was Uncle Gareth's—Dad's—words.

_Roger had talked to Ralph, and he understood._

Then, his mind began to torture him.

_You're abandoning him just for this? A performance in your dream school? What kind of friend you are?_

Jack realised that his mind was right. He would never forgive himself for this.

He stopped singing and the hall came back to focus. He barely could see Mr. Smith's satisfied expression and Miss Sorenson's huge smile. The only thing in his mind was Ralph's trial.

"I... I should go. Th-thank you," he said hurriedly before grabbing his bag and leave.

* * *

Jack had taken a bus to the court, although Dad had said that he would pick him up after the trial. Dad would kill him for fleeing like that (and using the only money he had), but he didn't have any more choice.

If he missed Ralph's trial, he would never forgive himself.

The redhead rushed into the courtroom, not caring of the shout of the guard. He was relieved to see that the room wasn't too crowded. He knew Ralph (and Roger) hated crowds. He spotted Ralph immediately, and he sat on the front row, trying to be close to the blond as possible.

"What are you doing here?" suddenly Mum's hiss came near his ear. "How's St. Daniel?"

Jack didn't answer. Instead he stared at the blond, who was obviously trembling on his lone seat. Suddenly the deep voice of the judge was heard.

"From the statements of the social workers, we can conclude that between the houses of Kenneth Foley's and Rebecca Wilkinson's, The Foleys is the better place for Ralph. His own family has better environment and is more financially stable."

Jack wanted to stand up and protest, but Judge Leroy continued his words.

"However, there is another reason why we are here today. Kenneth Foley and his two sons, Devon and Ross, are accused of doing child abuse towards their youngest family member. We have all heard the statement from Kenneth Foley, saying that he didn't do anything more than corporal punishments towards his children, especially Ralph.

"We, too, have heard the statement from Rebecca Wilkinson's son Eric, who had objected Kenneth's statement. He had stated clearly that Ralph's family obviously has been abusing their youngest son. We don't need to hear any more details." Judge Leroy looked angry and disgusted. To whom, and why, Jack didn't know.

"Now, I decide to give Ralph time to stand his ground. Ralph Foley, you can prove yourself. Have you been abused?"

Jack's breath hitched as he saw Ralph's back straightened. He could see the other's lip trembled.

_He won't dare._

The sound of his mind shocked him.

_Ralph won't dare, Jack. He'll back off. He said he doesn't fear anything but his family. He'll back off and all of this will be..._

"Your Highness?"

_...useless_.

Jack didn't realise that he had stood from his seat and all those people's eyes were on him, including Ralph's shocked ones.

"May I come near Ralph?"

Judge Leroy stared at him intently, and Jack stared back. Finally he leant against his seat. "You may, young man."

Jack didn't waste any time to approach Ralph's trembling form. He smiled at him.

"Hello."

Ralph stared at him in disbelief. "You shouldn't be here."

Jack snorted. "Bollocks to them. You can bloody well do this, Ralph," he said in a low voice. Then he leant down to whisper to his ear. "Prove it to them."

"I need," Ralph wheezed. "Need to open my shirt. Th-they beat me up this morning. It's… it's…"

"Well, just do it then," Jack ordered firmly.

Ralph blinked and his hands clenched. And that was when Jack realised what he was gripping so strongly.

His choir tog.

"Come on," he whispered. "You'll be fine. You have me. You have Roger, Samneric, Mum, Dad, Mrs. Wilkinson. You have us. And you have your tog."

Ralph finally nodded and stood from his seat. Jack walked backwards as the other boy opened his shirt. He could hear shocked gasps and whispered words from the audiences behind them as they saw purple bruises and scars on the fair body. Jack couldn't contain himself anymore.

"You see?" he began to seethe. Anger filled his insides. He glanced at Ralph who hurriedly put on his shirt again, surprised of Jack's rant. "And then they said they didn't abuse him!"

"What's your name, young man?" Judge Leroy suddenly called from his seat.

Jack snapped his head at him. "Jackson Merridew."

"Well, Mr. Merridew, if you still want to remain in this room, you better keep silent."

Jack sneered at him and walked back to his seat on the front row.

* * *

The custody went to Mrs. Wilkinson.

_Obviously._

Jack, however, didn't let Ralph's father and brothers came near the blond, and glared at them as they wanted to do so. Mum came to Mr. Foley and talked to him and they finally left, glaring at Ralph as they exited the door.

Samneric were bouncing near them, obviously happy to have another brother. They gave him a quick hug before went out with their mother. Roger and Dad muttered their congratulations and Mum hugged him. Then they left, leaving Jack alone with Ralph. Well, not really alone, but the remaining people were busy with themselves, including Judge Leroy and the juries.

Ralph was still trembling, so Jack did something he used to do. He pulled the tog from Ralph's lap and covered the blond with it. He smiled when he realised that the trembles had lessened.

"This is... real, right?"

Jack rolled his eyes and pulled him into a hug. "It's more real than reality, my friend."

And you know what? It really was.

* * *

A/N: I'll be away for several days, so this is the last update for a while. Sorry for crappy scenes in a court and if you read A Choir Robe and Nightmares carefully, in there Jack had sung Suo Gan, but in here he sings it again. Sorry for that. I just lost ideas back then. :|

Thanks for the reviews, friends :)

Review plz? :D


	12. Roger and Samneric, the Matchmakers

_Chapter Twelve: Roger and Samneric, the Matchmakers_

* * *

When Jack was called again to the music room two days afterward, Miss Young didn't look so happy.

"Do you know what these are?" she asked curtly, waving two pieces of paper in front of him.

Jack shrugged. Actually he knew exactly what they were, but he didn't want to say anything. An angry Miss Young wasn't something he would like to see.

"These," she said slowly. "Are your Suo Gân's lyrics. You left them there."

Jack could feel his face got hotter in embarrassment. "I left because…"

Miss Young waved her hand, stopping his train of reason. "I know why. Your mother called me as soon as she was out from your friend's trial." Her face brightened. "I understand. You're a good friend, Mr. Merridew."

The redhead bit his tongue so he wouldn't sneer. "Thank you, Miss."

"However, your action confused Mr. Smith and Miss Sorenson. I have contacted them and told them what happened, and they needed a while to consider your… behaviour."

"Needed?"

"Yes," she was grinning now. "I just got a letter from them. Here, read it yourself."

Jack took the letter in an instant. It was short, but the words made him beam in delight.

_Dear Miss Laura Young,_

_We are very pleased to see your special student, Jackson C. Merridew, performed two days ago. Jackson has an impressive vocal range for boys his age, and I believe he can bring every song give to him perfectly. Miss Christina Sorenson, our vocal teacher, has stated that she was impressed of the song Jackson had sung._

_We decide to ignore Jackson's inconvenience at the end of the performance. Instead, we saw how he looked when he was performing. Miss Sorenson believes that expression is one of the most important thing for singers, and she believes Jackson can do it so well._

_This makes us come to a conclusion that we'll accept Jackson Merridew as a vocal student in St. Daniel Institute of Arts, starting next September. We'll be very happy to see Jackson as our student, and for that, we're also very pleased to give him full scholarship, which will end by the time he graduates._

_Thank you for your kind attention._

_Best regards,_

_Neville Smith_

_Head of St. Daniel Institute of Arts_

"Wow." That was all Jack could say.

"Congratulations, Mr. Merridew," she said, patting his back. "Now scram. I bet you have people to tell this accomplishment to."

Jack grinned at her. "Yes, I have."

* * *

Nobody was home when Jack arrived to tell them about the news. This made him wonder. Mum almost never left the house these times. She'd be so very busy making lunch or playing the piano or sometimes do some gardening.

Jack approached the dining table and saw a note on it. His eyebrow twitched as he read it.

_Jack,_

_I decide to put Roger in Ralph's school, so we are there right now. Feel free to cook._

_Mum_

If the note wasn't that serious, Jack would've laughed at the mention of cooking. Mum never allowed him, and everyone else in that matter, to cook. However, Jack liked to cook, since he was used to it, sneaking in the darkness of the orphanage to cook something for him or Roger or some hungry boys that hadn't been allowed to have dinner for days.

Jack closed his eyes. He hated that memory. After taking several deep breaths, he could calm himself and reread the letter again. This time, his eyes narrowed.

_Why on earth Roger is registered to Ralph's school and not mine?_

So, seeing that he had no answers at that wizard question, he put down the note, rushed out the house, took his bike, and rode it down the street, towards a house which was pretty far from his own.

* * *

Both Ralph and Samneric were home when he arrived. The twins merely pointed at the direction of Ralph's room before they were gone God-knows-where. Jack rolled his eyes at them and went into Ralph's room. He grinned when he saw the blond who was busy putting his clothes into his new cupboard.

Ralph snapped his head at him, tiredness apparent in his features.

"Oh hello, it's you."

"Guess what?" Jack asked, excitement flowing inside him.

Ralph threw himself on the bed. He looked up at Jack lazily. "What?" he drawled.

"I'm going to St. Daniel!"

"Really?" Ralph asked, unenthusiastically.

"Yes!" Jack beamed, showing the blond the letter from that school. "Here, read this."

Ralph rose from his bed and shook his head. "I'm not really well today. Can you, please, just go?"

Jack's head reeled as if he had been slapped. "What's going on with you?" he asked.

Ralph merely shook his head and walked away, out from the room. Jack wanted to chase him, but he knew it was just useless. Jack was now alone, his head spinning of the possibilities of him hurting Ralph or something.

"What on earth is going on?"

"He's sad—"

"—because you're leaving."

"What?" Jack looked back and saw Samneric leaning against the wall.

"He likes you—"

"—and doesn't want you to leave."

"He knows—"

"—you'll leave."

"So he's sad."

Jack was surprised to see those boys telling him Ralph's feelings. "But he told me to go!"

"He was angry—"

"—but he understood that it's your dream."

"So," Jack sneered. "If you two are so smart, what should I do then?"

"Tell him you love him."

The three boys in the room looked at the door and saw an exhausted-looking Roger standing rather awkwardly on the doorway. Samneric looked like they wanted to flee, but since Roger blocked the escape, they couldn't do nothing but stare and gape at the dark boy.

Jack was the first one to speak. "Are you sure you're not going barmy?" he asked, incredulously.

Roger shook his head and sat next to him. Samneric still looked like they wanted to flee, but something apparently made them stay.

"I think that's the least that you could do."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Let me ask you something," Roger stared at him deeply, something he usually did. But this time, there was something else in that gaze, something Jack couldn't really recognise. "D'you love Ralph?"

Jack snapped his head back, gobsmacked. "I don't know what you are talking about."

Samneric suddenly placed themselves next to Jack. "We do," they said in unison.

"Even _they_ do." Roger said, but his tone held no underestimation. "I think that question is a bit too... difficult. You," he pointed at Eric, who, to Jack's surprise, didn't even tremble as usual. "Start."

"D'you feel something different when you're with him?" Eric asked, looking at Jack.

The redhead frowned. "Like what?"

"Happier, perhaps?" Sam asked, startling Jack.

"Well, yes, I..."

"D'you feel like you want to see him every day?" Eric popped his head to Jack's vision.

"Of course, he's fine."

"Fine?" Sam asked incredulously. "Just 'fine'? Impossible."

Jack glared at him, whose face glowed in satisfaction at that glare.

"D'you think about him every time you can?"

Jack couldn't answer that directly. "What now?" he asked exasperatedly. He looked at Roger, who shrugged and trying not to laugh. Jack had never seen him so amused.

"Just answer the question."

"Not really. I just wonder if he's okay or not. You know, he gets banged up all the time." He forced a irritated expression. "The amount of times he got beaten is too bloody high."

Samneric grinned, even their grins looked similar. Jack stared at them oddly. "What?" he asked. "You want to ask another question or something?"

"No—"

"—but we know now."

Jack gaped at them. He absolutely looked stupid now. A pat on his back startled him as he looked back and saw Roger, who was grinning now.

"You're in love with him."

If possible, Jack's gaping mouth widened.

"Just go and—"

"—tell him."

"Before you get—"

"—too late."

Jack looked back at Roger, who now glared at him. "Go," he said curtly.

The word compelled Jack, and so he fled.

* * *

A/N: Happy New Year! And here's an update :) Review plz? :D


	13. Confessions and Departure

_Chapter Thirteen: Confession and Departure_

* * *

Jack found Ralph sitting alone on the backyard, musing. The grass was still wet from the yesterday's hard rain, but the blond didn't seem to mind. He was unaware of Jack's arrival until the redhead sat next to him.

"Hullo." Jack greeted.

Ralph didn't say anything.

"Why did you run out like that?" Jack asked, and mentally hit himself afterwards for being a stupid, insensitive boy.

It seemed like it was the last bloody straw for Ralph. He snapped his head at Jack as he shot the redhead his finest killer glare. "Why are you leaving us? Leaving me?"

"I'm not." That was all Jack could say. "Me going to St. Dan doesn't mean I'll leave you or something."

Ralph was still glaring at him. "You are. And stop debating me. You're leaving me here with the others when you know I need you the most. How ironic is that?" He paused for breath. "You were that... bloody git on the island and now you're doing it a—"

His words were muffled by Jack's kiss, which finally left him breathless.

To Jack's shock, Ralph had tears on his eyes when he pulled away. "Now what," he sighed, still not using his questioning tone. "Don't tell me I messed things up, Ralph Foley-Wilkinson." The 'Wilkinson' name was actually unofficial, but since Ralph was now Samneric's older brother, that made sense. Jack only hoped that could lighten the mood.

"You do," Ralph wiped the tears from his eyes. "Now tell me something to fix this."

"How about 'I'm in love with you'?" The words came spilling out from Jack's mouth before he could stop it. But as much as spontaneous those words were, those were the truth, the most honest remark that Jack had ever spilled.

Ralph let out a sniff, and Jack gaped when he saw the smaller blond was sobbing hysterically. "What?" he asked. _Bloody hell_, he cursed himself. _I mess up again_. "I told you the truth and you become a sobbing mess? You have issues, Ralph." He didn't mean the words, of course, but he was just puzzled by Ralph's response. _Idiot_, he cursed again. _Plain idiot you are, Jack Merridew_.

"It's not that," Ralph wiped his face and looked up at him. "It's like... everyone I love either hurt me or abandon me in the end. You will, too, someday."

Jack merely stared at him in disbelief.

"When my mother was pregnant with me," Ralph started his story. "Our family went somewhere for a vacation. They had been a perfect family back then. My father was kind and warm and my brothers were wonderful. I couldn't imagine that. Really, I couldn't," he sighed. "However, her pregnancy with me was a disaster and that ruined the holiday. I was born premature, because her water broke in that place and nobody expected that.

"My father said that he loved her so much he would do anything to keep her alive. He would kill anything that made her suffer, and he made my brothers swore the same. At least he made Ross, he was very young back then. And so be it," Ralph paused, letting out a bitter laugh. "She died because of me and they took their revenge. It wasn't that difficult to understand, really, if you try to walk in their shoes."

Silence.

"That is not the reason they could ab—hit you all the time," Jack finally said, and was surprised when he heard his own rough tone. Ralph had never mentioned his mother, and now he understood why the blond did that. At Ralph's silence he continued, "Now, you listen. How much they hated you for your mother's death, it was, and still is, not your fault. I will never leave you, and the others won't as well. Understand?"

Ralph managed a nod after a long pause. "You sound like a therapist."

Jack took it as a joke and he attempted a smile. Leave it to Ralph Foley-Wilkinson to crack jokes in such a situation. "Well, let's say I'm pretty capable to heal my heartbroken, abused friend who I accidentally fall in love with."

Ralph burst out laughing. But then he fell silent again.

"You're sure about that?" he asked, his tone suddenly timid.

"About what, exactly?" Jack hated to ask questions, and he still did. But Ralph confused him, and he couldn't keep his question mark out from his tone.

"In love with me."

Jack gaped at him. Of course he was! "What can I do to prove it to you?" he said challengingly. Ralph's face lit up as he glanced at the determined redhead.

"Kiss me?"

Jack threw his hands up in exasperation. "I thought you'd ask for something else. You know, presents or something."

Ralph rolled his eyes. "Who needs presents when you and your tog are enough?"

That was so absurd yet so honest that Jack kissed him at once. The kiss was new, giving them something else that they hadn't felt before, taking them into a higher step of intensity and of course... love. It was beautiful, and Jack doubted somebody would go against that. Ralph dropped his eyes close and Jack followed, letting themselves lost in the not-so-platonic kiss.

A rustling sound startled them. Ralph snapped his head out from Jack's hands (when Jack held his head, the redhead would never know) and they looked at the door which led to the house. There was a sudden move from the window, but they could see Roger's and Samneric's grins as they ran further into the house.

_Bloody hell! Those gits!_

"HEY!" Jack jumped up, Ralph followed. "COME BACK HERE, YOU!"

Jack ran into the house, pulling Ralph's arm as they laughed like two barmy little boys.

Maybe Ralph hadn't said 'I love you' back just yet, but Jack was smarter than that. He could see something more, and it was shining from Ralph's body like a roaring rescue fire from the island. After all Ralph had been through, Jack knew that he wasn't a type who would say things like this out loud (or many things in that matter). Love didn't need to be said sometimes, and Jack understood that completely.

Yeah, Jack could see all that because he was smart and had overconfidence issues (like Ralph said) and the list went on.

And above all else, of course, because he was Jackson Christopher Merridew.

* * *

**September 1st, a year later.**

**(Jack, Ralph, and Roger were sixteen. Samneric were around fourteen.)**

"Oh, c'mon, it's not the end of the world!" Jack scowled at the sight of his sobbing mother. "It's not even that far from here!"

"I'm just so proud of you," Mum sniffed, wiping her tears and snot and whatnot on her white handkerchief for the thousandth time. "You're such a wonderful boy."

Jack blushed at the praise. He didn't really like being praised. Roger was there next to him, sitting on his suitcase, to his annoyance. But now he was grateful of the distraction, as he looked away from his proud mother to his best friend. "Roge, for God's sake, don't sit on my suitcase! How many times I have to tell you?"

Roger merely rolled his eyes and stood. He smiled a little at his mother's antics but said nothing. Dad stood on the doorway, looking quite impatient, but like Roger, he stayed silent as well. Maybe they found this scene amusing, much to Jack's growing annoyance. "It's not even that far from here. And I'll be home on Christmas, anyway."

Mum finally could compose herself. "I know, I know," she said fondly. "I'm just so proud of you, that's all. My son winning a scholarship, every mother will be proud, my son."

Although Jack heard the full honesty on her words, he couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes. Unfortunately, Mum saw it and threw him a sharp glare. "You stop doing that, young man." Jack obliged and grinned at her, which she replied.

"I'm sorry we can't go with you," she said. Roger needed to go to his therapist in the asylum for his three-monthly check ups. He was so much better than before, thus made the therapist lessen his visit times. Sometimes he got panic attacks, and once Jack had to call Ralph and Samneric for help. The three of them were the demons in Roger's head, and facing them made him stronger and finally he could beat his breakdown.

Speaking about breakdowns, Ralph had his too. It wasn't easy to make him forget his abuse and self-hatred, after all, even with all Jack's affection towards him. Samneric and Roger helped as well. Roger kept saying that Ralph had 'saved' him, by coming to the asylum back then, which had made him able to face his demons and that fastened his recovery. It was because of Ralph Roger could go home. Apparently Ralph remembered that, since he hadn't had breakdowns anymore after that.

Jack huffed. Eric had called him, saying that Ralph caught a cold, which made him unable to leave his bed. The twins decided to make him preoccupied by playing their own vinyl records on their mother's—_Aunt Becky's_—gramophone. Jack merely hoped Ralph didn't do anything drastic like fleeing just to see him going. Jack didn't mind his absence, after all.

_Or do you_, his mind taunted. _Not minding him?_

The redhead had to stop lying to himself. Of course he minded, but he knew there was nothing he could do. Maybe he could talk Dad to take him to Ralph's house first, but he wasn't sure about that idea. Ralph's house was even further than the way to St. Dan, much to Jack's dismay. He didn't realise that his forehead had shaped a deep frown.

"Jack!"

Mum had disappeared to her room, couldn't stand watching 'her boy' left to the dorms without her accompanying. At Dad's voice calling his name, Jack looked up and saw him outside the house, greeting someone. There was a taxi on the street, and some people came out from it. Jack's breath stopped somewhere in his throat.

"Ralph?"

The blond stood on the bottom of the steps, and Jack gaped at him from the top of it. He looked paler than usual, his hair was messy as if he had just gotten up from the bed (maybe he really did), and his clothes were as messy as his hair as if he had no time to change his clothes. Samneric didn't seem to notice them, since they were engaged to Dad's conversation.

Jack hurriedly jumped from the steps. Ralph flinched when Jack touched his forehead. "Now, what are you doing here, you silly?" But Jack pulled him into a hug anyway, and smiled when Ralph leaned onto his shoulder.

"You're going," he said. "Of course I'll see you first."

"And thus making your cold worse," Jack scolded, tightening his hug and cherishing Ralph's body warmth. Ralph kept silent, but a small smile crossed his lips and for Jack that was enough. The redhead leant down and kissed his red nose.

"Careful!" Ralph said. "You'll catch my cold shortly after you arrive in that school."

"I don't mind."

Ralph rolled his eyes and punched Jack's upper arm. For a sick boy, he was quite strong. Jack laughed painfully and rubbed his arm. Ralph laughed with him but it lasted as fast as it appeared. They fell into a long silence.

"You get well," Jack said quietly. "The twins will be quite messed up if they have to deal with you get sick all the time."

Ralph grinned. "Of course." He paused. "You too, Jack."

"You know me. I'm a Merridew."

Ralph's grin widened. "I know that well enough, Mr. Merridew. I—"

The blond's words were cut when Roger suddenly planted himself between them. "Sorry for the interruption, lovebirds," he said quietly, and earning Jack's glare. "But my father is pretty impatient over there."

Jack and Ralph laughed out loud when they saw Dad glaring at them from the car. He looked so funny they couldn't help it. Roger looked at his stepfather before he, too, burst out into a peals of laughter. It was one of the rare times Jack saw him laughing. "I'll be home for Christmas."

Ralph nodded vigorously. "I know."

"And I expect something lavish from you. Something made from gold."

Ralph burst out laughing again. "Who would've guessed that Jackson Merridew is such an old lady?" he asked, referring to one time when they saw an old woman with too much gold jewellery on her body.

Jack smacked his shoulder. "Take that back!"

Ralph merely made funny faces at him and Jack laughed again. He suddenly pulled him into a tight hug. "Write often," he said, more like an order actually, but Ralph didn't seem to mind. Ralph nodded against his shoulder. "And tell me if something happens."

"Of course!" Ralph pulled away from Jack's arms. He pulled the redhead down and gave a quick peck on his lips, fast enough to make it unnoticeable. Only Roger and Samneric saw that public affection; and their grin afterwards looked eerily similar. "Besides, nobody can stand my meddling and your arrogance."

Jack rolled his eyes and kissed Ralph's cheek. "Be well," he said, although he had said almost the same before. "Too bad you're a crap in art, or you can join me."

"Art's not my thing."

"I know." Roger suddenly pulled Jack away, startling the redhead boy. "I'll write as soon as I arrive!"

Ralph merely nodded and smiled at him. Before Jack went into the car, Ralph called him, much to his annoyance.

"What now, Ralph Foley-Wilkinson?!" he asked irritatingly. At the edge of his field of vision he could see Samneric blushed at the Wilkinson name.

Ralph didn't say anything, but his hands did. It took Jack a while to understand what he was implying.

He pointed at himself. _I_.

His hands made a heart shape. _Love_.

He pointed at Jack. _You_.

Jack's smile was so wide he practically could feel it reaching his ears. "You too, Ralph!" he shouted before jumping into the car. He opened the window and waved at them, and to Mum who was crying softly from her bedroom window, before gave Ralph a small blow-kiss, which was visible to the other kids. Ralph ducked his head and blushed as Samneric elbowed him and Roger laughed his arse off.

And as the car went to his new school, Jack realised, with a start, that it was the first time Ralph had said that.

* * *

A/N: Almost the end, guys! The epilogue comes ASAP. :)

Oh, someone just emailed me and asked where's 'Merridew' came from, while Jack doesn't have any parent at all? That actually had crossed my mind, and will be mentioned in the epilogue :D

Review plz? :D


	14. Christmas at Home I

_Chapter Fourteen: Christmas at Home (part I)_

* * *

Christmas at home had been wizard.

Jack couldn't say it had begun well. First, Dad had gone for a short business trip exactly when Jack had to go home, so the redhead had to go home by bus. But after a long, hard argument with his mother, and a short detention from his teacher for overusing the school phone, Roger had agreed to pick Jack up so they could go home by train.

Jack hated going with bus, and he knew Roger despised it as well. They went to the airport by bus, and then they had flown and got stranded. They knew it was quite irrational, but unless there was an emergency—for example Ralph's trial—Jack refused to go by bus. He was used to go by his bicycle, and he didn't want it to change.

Second, Samneric, Ralph, and Aunt Becky (that was how Jack and Roger called their mother) were out of town for visiting their relatives. Aunt Becky had taken Ralph to her relatives for Halloween and they liked him. When Ralph had come home, Jack had got a bunch of letters about Ralph's new relatives in his dorm. Jack found himself happy when he saw Ralph happy, but he didn't really want Ralph to know that.

Third, Roger had a girlfriend. Her name was Susannah something, and Jack called her Sue for short, much to Roger's annoyance and Jack's mirth, because he wanted it to be his own special nickname to her. She once helped Roger with his panic attack, along with Ralph, and they became close afterwards. Roger rarely wrote Jack a letter, but when he did, he wrote about this girl and Jack knew she could be Roger's 'the one'.

It wasn't like Roger truly abandoned Jack, of course. Jack knew they were best friends, even with Roger's silence and Jack's reluctance to admit such an... absurd thing like that. They had been friends since ever, and they doubted a girl would break them up. But Roger obviously was spending more time with her, and Jack still needed time to get used to it.

Sue was actually Ralph's partner in a class, and she was ecstatic to hear about Jack and Ralph from Roger and Samneric (Jack would talk to them about this). She even suggested a double date after Christmas, much to Jack and Roger's shock. Both had refused the idea blatantly, and Jack knew Ralph would say the same.

Fourth, there was this news.

After arrived at home, Roger went out to go with Sue, leaving Jack with Mum. She was cooking when they had arrived, and she burnt their lunch when she was too busy hugging her sons and asking about their trip home.

Jack decided to change his clothes and walked downstairs. She appreciated his help, and they were busy cooking afterwards. They were silent, but finally Mum broke it.

"Jack, I have to tell you something," she said solemnly, almost sullenly.

Jack put down the plate he was holding. "What is it?"

"Someone from the orphanage came and gave you something. He told me about your mother."

Jack's heart jumped to his throat. "My mother?"

"Your _biological_ mother," Mum said stoically, a tone Jack had never heard. That reminded him to the confrontation in the hospital, a year ago, with Ralph's father. "Her name was Theresa Jacqueline Merridew, nee McDonald."

"Was?"

"She died three months ago."

Suddenly Jack could feel anger burning his insides. "And now you tell me?!" he shouted, couldn't control himself anymore. "After her death, now you tell me?!" His vision changed to a dark, dingy room of his orphanage. His head started to spin, and he could feel Mum's warm hands on his shoulder and slowly he found himself back in the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, Jack," she said. "Now, come on, we'll talk about it."

Mum took him into the living room and sat him down. She was gone for a while, and finally back with a large brown envelope in her grip. She sat next to the shocked boy; the solemn look was still there. Then she started the story of Jack's missing childhood.

"Your family were English, and you were born in London, but your parents went to New York for your father's business trip. Your father, Jackson Christopher Merridew Senior—"

"I was named after him," Jack whispered, his voice sounded hollow with another memory. "One of the keepers knew I have a 'Junior' behind my name, but she died and I forget."

"Yes. He was a businessman, and your mother was an art student, she was twenty-one then. However... they went to America and... and..."

Jack saw her face hardened, although he could see a sympathetic look from her eyes. Dread filled Jack's insides; he knew he wouldn't like the story.

"...their plane crashed. Your mother was the only survivor."

_Why must it be so ironic?_

Jack wanted to say that, he really did, but no voice came out. All this time, he actually followed his family's footsteps. Their plane had crashed, just like his had been. He had survived, just like his mother had been. This fact, this similarity, didn't make him feel any better.

Mum continued as if she hadn't seen his still reaction. She pulled out a piece of paper and read it. Jack didn't have any interest to read together with her. "She made it to New York, but she had a permanent memory loss. The doctors couldn't cure her, and finally she was given to a family to foster."

"Permanent memory loss?"

"Yes," Mum answered, voice barely above a whisper. "She didn't remember anything, even her name. Her name was Jennifer St. Clare in there. But she dreamed every night. She dreamed about you, Jack."

"Me?"

"She didn't know who you were, but she wondered why you kept coming into her mind, and growing up as time progressed. She drew you often, because she was an excellent artist. However, she remembered nothing until the day she died."

"So..." Jack was speechless. "How did she know me?"

"She had a strong feeling towards you. She thought you were someone she loved." Mum stopped. "She loved you so much, even though she couldn't remember you."

Jack blinked several times. He wasn't crying, because... because he wasn't. "I guess."

"This is her letter for you." Mum shoved another piece of paper. Seeing Jack's reluctance, she relented. "Do you want me to read it for you?"

Jack managed a shaky nod.

"Alright..." Then Mum started.

_Dear the redheaded boy in my dreams,_

_I don't know you, but I know I love you. I've been in love with you since ever. I see you every night, in my dreams. I saw a little boy at first, but you grow up. Now you're a teenager, maybe around fifteen or sixteen years old. You have a red hair and freckles, like I do, and blue eyes, unlike me. Maybe from your father? I can't remember who you are, but you're the reason why I'm still alive now. If you remember me, I'm so sorry that I can't. I hope you're fine._

_My name is Jennifer, and I live with the St. Clare family in New York. As I'm writing this, I'm not well anymore. I mean I think I'll die soon. I don't want to die before I tell someone about you, the boy that has kept me alive all those years. You are the one that give me strength when I feel down, and you are the first thing I saw when I woke up in the hospital all those years ago. As absurd as it was, that's the truth._

_If I have a fortune somewhere, a quarter of it will go to you, while the rest go to the St. Clares. Dear boy, I love you, and thank you for being my first anchor to reality. You have introduced me to the strong feeling called love, and that makes me can open up with other people in here._

_Love, Jennifer St. Clare_

After Mum's calm voice finished saying the name, Jack had tears on his eyes and he let them because he just didn't care. He looked down at the floor, not wanting his adoptive mother (it had been a while since he called Mum that) to see it. His tears suddenly landed on a piece of paper Mum had shoved into his vision. He gasped softly when he realised that it was his own face.

It was his mother's picture of him, and Jack could see himself in it.

He saw his eyes, his hair, his freckles, his smile, his... his everything. He couldn't help but to wonder how someone who never met him could knew his face so perfectly. He finally looked up at Mum, whose eyes were watery as well. "How could it...?" He couldn't finish the question.

"After she died, Ennis St. Clare, her foster father, came to the hospital where she had been hospitalised after the crash. He found her pictures of you, and he wanted to know who you were. Your mother didn't know she was 'adopted', thus she believed that the St. Clares were her original family until she died. The nurses told him she maybe came from England, because of her accent when she came there for the first time. Mr. St. Clare started to look here and finally he came to your orphanage, and finally they came to me."

Jack couldn't say anything. And he wondered if he supposed to. They continued to sit down in silence. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, he was cut off by a smell. And a womanly shriek.

"NOT AGAIN!"

Mum, again, had burnt their lunch.

* * *

A/N: The next part comes ASAP! Sorry for the long wait, but finally my exams are done! YAAY! :D

Anyways, this answers the question about Jack's family. Hope you like!


	15. Christmas at Home II

_Chapter Fifteen: Christmas at Home (part 2)_

* * *

Ralph surprisingly came home earlier than expected. The Wilkinsons came over for Christmas Eve's dinner, which made the boys quite busy. He brought some Christmas presents with him, and he couldn't stop talking about his days in Samneric's relatives. They gathered in the living room and started to chat. Roger, who had come home from his date, and Samneric suddenly shooed the boys out the living room, suggesting them to 'find a room', much to Jack's exasperation.

Ralph shook his head amusedly when they had arrived in Jack's room. "Those insufferable gits."

Jack merely gave him a smile and kissed his lips. Bloody hell, those lips were as soft as ever. "I've missed you," he said softly, all his arrogance and self-preservation forgotten.

Ralph smiled. "You can say the same about me."

Jack lied on his bed and patted the empty space next to him. Ralph lied down, filling the empty space, arms folded above his head. "So, Jack," he began, tilting his head so he could see Jack better. "How's St. Dan?"

"This far?" Jack asked back, looking at Ralph's eyes. "Great. I'm in the choir, Ralph! In my first year! You should hear us sing!"

Ralph grinned. "Good for you," he answered happily. "As for me, I have this new teacher, she's wizard! She introduced me to creative writing, you should meet her someday, Jack, she..."

Jack listened intently as Ralph rambled on and on with his school life. The redhead didn't even ask about his school life, which was a good thing. Ralph was obviously happier and more open to his surroundings, and for that Jack was grateful.

"I heard about your mum," Ralph suddenly said, and Jack frowned at his drastic expression change.

Jack wanted to reply sarcastically, he really did. He wanted to silence Ralph, forbidding him for talking about such a thing in Christmas Eve. But all that came out was: "It's okay."

Ralph circled his arm around his shoulder, but Jack didn't feel anything other than hollow emptiness. "I know how that feels," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "I can't help... you know, Jack, wondering... if she really loved me."

Jack didn't say anything, and Ralph smiled sadly before kissing his temple. "At least you know she loved you."

It was so honest and so annoying at the same time Jack couldn't stand hearing it without reacting. "Idiot!"

Ralph flinched and pulled away. "Wh-what?"

"If your mother hated you," Jack said through gritted teeth. "Why did she die for you? Why didn't she give you up? Why didn't she listen to her husband who loved her so much?"

His words were followed by total silence. Ralph opened his mouth a few times, as if wanting to say something, but nothing came out.

After a long while, Ralph smiled a bitter smile, scratching his head, showing Jack how nervous and defeated he was. "That... those questions... they have been inside my mind for so long," he said slowly. "I just need... I guess I just need someone to say that in front of me... so, you know... I'm not the only one... who thinks like that."

Jack took a deep breath and pulled Ralph into a hug. "I happen to be that someone."

Ralph buried his face in Jack's neck. "And I think I wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

"IT'S CHRISTMAS!"

It was the first thing Jack heard when he woke up on the next morning. Ralph curled next to him, sleeping silently. He looked so peaceful, his blond hair messy on the pillow, and his skin looked brighter under the morning sun. He heard another happy shriek from downstairs and shook his head in exasperation. Those twins could act like a pair of brats sometimes.

"Ralph," he whispered, shaking the blond. "Wake up."

Ralph merely grunted as a response, and slowly woke up. "What?" he asked hoarsely.

"Your head's on my arm," Jack forced his arm out under Ralph's head, massaging it.

"Sorry," Ralph mumbled and rolled over, obviously not wanting to wake up.

"We better get downstairs before the others eat our breakfast."

"It's Christmas," Ralph replied sleepily, nudging him. "Lemme go back to sleep. Breakfast later." Before Jack could reply, Ralph had burrowed himself into the blankets and was asleep in a matter of seconds.

"Insufferable," Jack muttered jokingly and walked out the room. He met Roger, who was walking out his bedroom as well.

"Morning, Jack," Roger quietly greeted. "Merry Christmas."

"Thanks, Roge. Merry Christmas to you too," Jack replied, smiling. He couldn't help but to feel so happy; he was always too happy on Christmases, after all. He gave his best friend a quick hug, which was enough for both of them. "Where are the others?"

"Downstairs."

Before Jack could speak, Eric suddenly appeared next to Roger. It was weird to see him without his twin tagging along. "Hey, we're going to have breakfast," he said, and Jack felt even weirder to see him saying a full sentence. "You should wake Ralph."

Jack rolled his eyes and Eric laughed. "I know how that feels," he said. "He likes to do that, you know."

Roger stared at him in confusion, and Eric elaborated. "Oversleeping, I mean. Sam and I one day decided to douse him or he would be too late to school."

"That is," Jack grinned at the idea. "A brilliant suggestion, Eric Wilkinson."

Eric nodded. "You should try that someday."

"Don't need to," Roger suddenly cut in. He stared at Jack, the corner of his lips curled into a cheeky smirk. "I know something better than just dousing him with water."

"What is?" Jack asked, rather naively.

Roger smirk became wider as he leant against the wall. "Something involved a hand and a…" he gestured to his groin and Jack flushed so red he felt almost dizzy.

"Ew, hell no!" Eric groaned. "Mental images!"

Roger merely rolled his eyes and stormed downstairs, leaving Jack and Eric alone for a minute before they, too, rushed downstairs.

* * *

Aunt Becky joined Jack's family for Christmas breakfast. She had been the one who woke Ralph, since she was the only one who could really get him out from the bed. They went through a noisy, cheerful Christmas breakfast, which was the first time Jack saw Dad laughing out loud. He looked so much like Roger, and if Jack didn't know it, he would have mistaken Dad as Roger's real father.

To make long story short, it was one of best Christmases for Jack. Oh, no, probably his best Christmas since he was born.

"Hi, Jack."

Jack looked up and saw Ralph plopped next to him. They were in the backyard, staring at the snow. They could see the others—even Dad and Roger—were busy on the snow. Samneric were playing snow fighting with Mum (quite unfair if you asked Jack), Aunt Becky and Roger were making a snowman, and Dad was making an angel on the ground. Jack couldn't help but to smile at the sight of them.

"Thanks for your present."

"Reckon you'll like it," Jack replied.

Ralph played the silver pen on his hand, Jack's Christmas present to him. He had told Jack about his new hobby: writing; and Jack decided to do something about it.

"So? Like yours?"

Jack smiled playfully at him before circled his arm around his shoulder. "Those shoes from Roger are wizard, I like the musical stand Samneric and your mother gave me, and I think the suit from my parents is amazing." He stopped and gave Ralph's cheek a peck. "But I like yours the most."

"Drama king," Ralph chided, but blushed nonetheless, making his pale face contrasted with his fair hair. "It's just a badge."

Jack laughed and stared at the small, 'J' shaped golden badge on his hand. "I love it."

Ralph merely shrugged. "Thanks."

"D'you think it's okay to put this next to my choir badge?"

Ralph burst into laughter. He knew so well it was impossible. "I'd like to see it, Mr. Merridew."

Jack hugged him tighter. "You better, Foley."

And there they remained, sitting on the steps in their backyard, Ralph's head on Jack's shoulder, his silver pen on his grip. Jack smiled and put his head on Ralph's, holding the small badge near his heart. Jack could see Ralph closing his eyes, and he followed. He had never felt so peaceful before.

They had found their family, their friends and of course each other. The island, the orphanage, and the abusive were merely a distant memory, changed with memories of enemies turned friends and love and new families. Forgiveness was a great thing once you could go past it, it really was.

Jack took a deep breath and kissed Ralph's head. Who would have guessed he would fall in love with the boy he had almost killed? Who would have guessed Ralph would forgive him? Who would have guessed he would get along with Samneric? The list of question that started with 'who would have guessed' was so long, and Jack only knew one answer for all those questions.

It just happened. But well… he didn't want to have it any other way.

"Jack!"

"Ralph!"

Before they could duck, two snowballs had hit their faces. They snapped away from their musings, and wiped the snow off their faces. Ralph stood and mock-glared at them as Jack jumped up and made another snowball.

"Take this, Wilkinson!"

Eric screamed as the snow hit his face, and Jack laughed before he ran into the backyard. Afterwards, Aunt Becky pulled Ralph into the middle of the backyard, forcing him to make another snowball, while Mum threw another snowball towards Jack's face.

Dad rose from the ground when Sam tripped on him, ruining his angel. He mock-scolded Sam until he laughed himself. Jack threw a snowball to Roger, who threw another towards him, but turned out hitting Sue (who was going to see her boyfriend). She merely laughed and jumped through the short fence, joining the snow party.

In conclusion, this was Christmas and everyone was happy.

_So yes, they certainly didn't want to have it any other way._

**FIN.**

* * *

A/N: Finally, THE END! 50 pages and 27k words, that was amazing. I'd like to make an epilogue, or at least about Jack's mom. Maybe I will, maybe. But anyways, thanks for sticking up with me, readers and reviewers and favers and followers! Thanks, thanks, thanks, thanks all! Hope you like and see you in another story! :)

Love,

Seer M. Anno (is currently too happy for seeing James Badge Dale a.k.a 1990 Simon in Iron Man 3 XD)


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